


As We Are

by Zarcie



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV), Hit the Floor (TV)
Genre: M/M, Threats of Rape/Non-Con
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-01
Updated: 2018-04-26
Packaged: 2019-03-25 02:04:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 11
Words: 35,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13824174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zarcie/pseuds/Zarcie
Summary: Dr. Spencer Reid of the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the FBI is struggling to find himself after his time in prison when he was framed for murder. Zero (Gideon) Captain of the L.A. Devils and Jude Kinkaid the EVP are working to make a life together while balancing their professional careers in the media spotlight of professional basketball. They live in different worlds and on opposite sides of the country, but when the death of a woman reveals a secret, they have an opportunity to be part of a family like they have never known.* Spencer Reid makes his first appearance in Chapter Four.





	1. Jude

**Author's Note:**

> “The ache for home lives in all of us. The safe place where we can go as we are and not be questioned.”  
> ― Maya Angelou, All God's Children Need Traveling Shoes

Jude Kinkade squeezed his eyes shut and leaned back in his office chair. The words of the corporate sponsorship contract in front of him were starting to blur and he needed a break. He would take one too if he didn’t fear this offer would fall apart like so many others. It was almost the end of the season and while the L.A. Devils had made an impressive showing, a championship win would take a minor miracle. Speculation over the rapid changes in management had resulted in support being withdrawn from the team from every direction. The players, the dancers, and the board were restless.

He would finish reviewing the contact, hopefully signing his approval and sending it on its way, and then he would head over to the house to see how construction was wrapping up. Jude smiled as the thought of the house gave him his second wind.

The house his partner Gideon grew up in with his horrible foster parents was nearing the end of renovation, at least to the main structure. Foundational issues, water damage, and plumbing issues had them behind schedule and over budget. The addition of their master suite and large family room would still take some time, but he and Gideon agreed that running back and forth between their respective places and the house to check on the construction was too much given their schedules. They had hardly seen each other in the past weeks. They would move into the main structure as soon as it was finished and oversee the completion of the addition.

Just as Jude was reaching for the contract again the phone on his desk rang. “Vanessa, please tell me it’s something that can wait. I really need to get through this paperwork,” he pleaded with his secretary and gatekeeper.

“I’m afraid not. Its Miguel’s school. No one showed to pick him up today and they can’t get ahold of Jelena. Her secretary says she left for a meeting and isn’t expected back for at least another hour,” Vanessa explained.

Jude heard the hesitation in her voice. “What is it?”

“The school councilor is on the phone this time. She’s says she'll need to contact CPS if it happens again.”

“Jelena still hasn’t given the school permission for me to pick him up, has she?” he asked. He already knew the answer. It was one of many points of contention between them. Whatever inspired her to become a mother-figure to her late friend Raquel’s son also included an insistence to do it almost entirely on her own.

“No. Still just Jelena and Kyle,” Vanessa confirmed.

Jude checked his watch, “Kyle is practicing with the Devil Girls. I’ll ask her to pick him up and see if she can’t talk some sense into Jelena.”

Vanessa snorted, “I wish you luck. That poor boy has lost enough. I’ll work on sweet talking the councilor.”

The conversation with Kyle Hart went about as well as expected. He wasn’t sure if it was because he was gay or maybe it was just him, but there was no good way to walk into a room full of sweaty, half-naked girls in the middle of their routine without feeling awkward.

“Can you have someone else take over practice?” he asked when he finally got her attention.

The fiery blond looked at him like he was simple, “You know we have an event tonight. Between this and tomorrow night’s game we barely have time to learn our routines. Can’t it wait?”

Jude was surprised to hear the stress in her voice. Things were worse than he thought if Kyle was cracking. “It’s Miguel,” he answered. “The school called because Jelena didn’t pick him up today. I’m still not on his approved list.”

“For heaven sake…”

“I know. We have to talk to her. Can you please go get him? Zero is just getting done with practice. He can keep Miguel occupied until Jelena shows up.” Thankfully, Gideon had established a bond with the boy and wouldn’t mind being volunteered for babysitting duty. 

Jude saw Kyle’s expression change from resignation to determination, “Fine, but I don’t care if she is our boss. The three of us will be staging an intervention.”

Jude only just made it back to his office and the waiting contract when this time his cellphone rang. He sighed in annoyance before he saw the caller was Stafford Belcheck, a private investigator he sometimes used. The P.I. had proven to be discrete and damn good at his job, but they weren’t friends who called each other casually. 

“Stafford, what can I do for you?”

“It is more about what I can do for you,” Stafford answered. “Do you remember when I helped find your partner’s sister, Laura?”

“Of course,” Jude replied. Stafford had needed to use some less than legal channels to find Gideon’s sister. In the end, Gideon chose not to contact Laura to avoid subjecting her to the media circus that surrounds a professional basketball player. “Did something happen?”

Just as he spoke a freshly showered Gideon walked into his office, raised an eyebrow, and slumped into the chair opposite his desk. Involuntarily, Jude's mouth twitch into a smile.

“My poking around didn’t go unnoticed. I got a call from another P.I. He's working for an attorney acting as executor for the estate of a woman named Jane Ellis. He wants to get in contact with Gideon and Laura, “Stafford explained. “I asked if I could be the one to reach out. I figured you would appreciate the discretion and the opportunity to tell Gideon yourself.”

“I don’t understand. Who is Jane Ellis?” Jude asked. He looked up and his eyes locked with Gideon.

“She’s Gideon’s mother,” Stafford answered. Jude felt his heart skip a beat and he knew his expression must have changed because Gideon straightened in his chair.

“And she’s dead?” He asked dumbly.

“Yes. Cancer. She left instructions with her attorney to be carried out after she passed. Look, I know you have questions, but I don’t have all the details. I'm going to email you the information for the attorney. Check in with him as soon as you can. I called in a professional courtesy so that I could call you myself, but if they don’t hear from Gideon they are going to find him themselves and you know what will happen.”

“Yeah, its gonna leak. I appreciate it, Stafford. I mean it. I’ll keep an eye out for your email.”

“In your inbox now. Good luck,” Stafford rang off.

As Jude put down the phone Gideon rounded the desk, “That was Stafford, the Private Investigator? What’s wrong?”

Jude stood and felt Gideon’s hands settle on his sides, anchoring him so they had to face each other. On one hand, he hated being the one to crush the hope he knew Gideon still carried of one day facing his mother and asking her why she would abandon him and his sister. On the other, he was grateful his partner wasn’t hearing it from a stranger he would have to hide his emotions from.

“Who the hell is Jane Ellis?” Gideon asked, impatient with his silence.

  
Jude pulled Gideon close, wrapping his arms around his shoulders. “She was your mother,” he whispered into his ear and held on.

 

That night at the charity event where the Devil Girls were performing, Gideon headed off on his own as soon as they arrived. A tension hung between them since the afternoon. In the midst of Gideon wrapping his mind around the death of his estranged mother, Kyle and Miguel came into Jude’s office. Gideon was a master at controlling his emotions around most people, but caught off guard with the color gone from his face and his hair ruffled from running his hands through it, it was clear they had walked in on something.

Kyle put her hands protectively on Miguel’s shoulders as she considered them. When she spoke, she remained vague, “Did you tell him?”

Gideon looked between them, “What now?”

Jude shook his head and mouthed _later_. In an overly cheerful voice, he said “Hey Miguel, Zero just got done with practice and I am sure he could use a snack. Why don’t you go with him?”

Miguel was raised to be too polite to blatantly roll his eyes at him, but Gideon didn’t hesitate, “Yeah, _later_.”

When they finally ended up at Jude’s apartment, contract thankfully completed, it all finally came out.

“They’re going to call CPS? They’ll put him in foster care!” Gideon said pacing and Jude knew the earlier revelation about his mother had brought memories of his own time in foster care to the surface.

Jude tried to catch his arm, “That hasn’t happened yet and we won’t let it. Jelena won’t let it.”

Gideon shrugged him off and Jude tried not to feel hurt, “Do you think Jelena is really going to listen to you? To us? Since Terrance left and Raquel died she’s been less manipulative, but now she’s just put up this wall. Hell, she’s supposed to be working with you on business strategy, but you end up running around cleaning up her mess.”

The conversation didn’t improved from there. Between that and getting ready for the charity event neither of them wanted to attend, they were putting up false fronts to keep up appearances. As the lights went down and the music turned up for the Devil Girls’ performance, Jude took a sip of his drink and closed his eyes. With everyone’s attention on the stage, for just a moment he let himself acknowledge the dull pounding in his temples from lack of sleep and too much stress. When he opened them again, Gideon was in from of him.

Jude felt Gideon take his hand, “I love you, stupid.”

If it were appropriate, Jude would have collapsed in the other man’s arms right then. Instead he just smiled, “You too, stupid.” For once, Jude thought _fuck it_ and before the Devil Girls had completed their routine, he and Gideon were out the door.

The moment they left, Jude knew he would pay for it the next day. He contemplated pulling Kyle and Gideon in with him for an intervention as Kyle suggested, but Jelena would be more combative if she thought they were ganging up on her.  

“Do you want to tell me where the hell you were last night?” Jelena demanded as she stormed into his office. Jude wondered how likely she was to use her stiletto to stab him. On a scale of 1 to 10, he figured a 6. An average day then.  

“I was exhausted so Zero and I went home.”

“When I let you remain EVP and I took Zero off the bench I told you not to make me regret it, “Jelena reminded coldly.

Jude braced himself, “What I didn’t anticipate was that I would regret it. Something has to give, Jelena.”

“If you don’t like this arrangement, Mr. Kinkade, you are welcome to find employment elsewhere,” Jelena answered, but she had given herself away and Jude knew she was bluffing.

“I’m not my father bent on having my name attached to this team at any cost and I am done trying to impress anyone but myself. I can and will move on if I have to, but if I leave the league will force a sale, just like you tried to convince them to do when Lionel was in charge. You and I both know I am the only one standing in the way of that happening now.” Jude took a breath, “You have to let me in. This is a team. And not just on the court.”

Jude knew from the set of her jaw  that she was holding herself back from lashing out. The fact that she didn't proved that a forced sale was exactly what she feared. He would pay for using it as leverage if she ever had a chance.

“What exactly did you have in mind?” Jelena finally bit out.

Jude knew better than to reveal his real objective. Not when it was so personal and she was still smarting from his ultimatum. “I think we need to bring someone in to help manage our perception in the public eye,” he finally said.

“I thought the recent charity events and promotional appearances were helping?” Jelena argued, but this time with more concern than heat. When the change in management had tensions high they had snatched up every sponsorship they could find. It backfired when one of their sponsors was indicted very publicly for embezzlement, the same crime Jude’s own father was guilty of, but never charged for when he ran the Devils. Since then they tried to recover by taking more ‘feel good’ appearances, mostly for free.

Jude shook his head, “We are never going to be able to outrun the association that way, not without running the team and the Devil Girls into the ground. It’s even starting to wear on Kyle.”

“I assume you have someone in mind?” Jelena arched an eyebrow, “And I am not going to like it.”

“We could get someone else,” Jude started, “and I will if you tell me you can’t work with her, but I really think Lionel is our best option. She’s a celebrity in her own right, she knows how to play the media, and it wouldn’t hurt our public image to put to bed the rumors of unrest between you two.”

Jelena took a breath. “Fine,” she said and turned toward the door.

“One more thing,” Jude stopped her.

She turned on her heel, “Of course there is.

Jude held out two completed approval forms for Miguel’s school. One for himself and one for Gideon, along with photocopies of their licenses. “Let me or Zero pick-up Miguel from school from now on. You need some help.” 

Jelena’s eye flashed, “Miguel is fine. I can be a good parent."

Jude knew they were getting to the heart of the issue. He didn’t know all the details, but it had something to do with Terrance. “Of course you can and that doesn’t change if you accept some help. Zero would do anything for Miguel and so would I. Let us pick him up from school until the end of the year. You aren’t alone.”

Jelena’s stood, eyes unfocused for a moment. Finally, she looked at him and took the papers. “I’ll sign these and fax them over to the school.” She paused at the door. She didn’t look up, “Thanks, Jude.”

When she was gone, Jude let out a breath. With that done, he could move on to the other issue hanging over their heads. He sat down at his desk and reached for the phone, dialing the number he had gotten from his email earlier.

When the receptionist answered he said, “May I speak with Paul Reynolds? I believe he is the executor of the Jane Ellis estate and I am calling on behalf of one of the beneficiaries.”


	2. Zero|Gideon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “She thought of Aziza's stutter, and of what Aziza had said earlier about fractures and powerful collisions deep down and how sometimes all we see on the surface is a slight tremor.”  
> ― Khaled Hosseini, A Thousand Splendid Suns

Zero focused his gaze on the traffic even as he felt Jude’s glances. They had been together now for longer than any of his previous relationships. If you could call them relationships. Despite the fact that Zero felt pretty damn fortunate, the way Jude pushed him to face his emotions and his past was still hard. Even harder was that Jude had retreated this past week, replacing his usual inquiries with quiet looks.  

After Jude called to set up the appointment with attorney Paul Reynolds about his mother’s estate and advise about the need for discretion, he started keeping his distance. For the first time in years Zero felt truly anxious and _insecure_. Really? He wasn’t sure if the unexpected return to this dark emotional playground stemmed from the situation with Miguel, the death of his mother, or some change in his relationship with Jude.

What was this anyway? Was Jude afraid he would lose it like he did when Jelena threatened to trade him? But Jude had been the one to tell him to not keep everything bottled up. Was it the argument they had the night of the charity event? He knew he hadn’t exactly been supportive. The brief look of misery he saw on Jude’s face had pulled him out of his funk and they had gone home to spend the rest of the night wrapped in each other.

That was the other thing that Zero hadn’t expected. When he and Jude first got together it was all barely contained desire and sexual energy. The intensity surprised him, but not as much as the tenderness that came when they reunited after the breakup. It wasn’t something he had ever wanted before, or imagined himself capable of giving to someone else.

He didn’t know why he was surprised. With Jude it was all new.

Zero stole his own glance at Jude, who was impassive as he stared out the passenger-side window. He reached for Jude’s hand and wove their fingers together. It felt natural, even if they didn’t often hold hands.

“Gideon…?” Jude asked and the distance between them was gone.

“You’re the only one who calls me that. I still feel like you’re talking to someone else sometimes,” he said. “It’s not how I think of myself.”

“Does it bother you? My using the name your mother gave you?” Jude asked and then Zero knew the other man had spent the week waiting for _him_.

Zero let the act of pulling into the lot at the law office and finding a parking space give him a moment to think. To reach for some honesty. “No, but I’m still figuring out who Gideon is and what you see in him sometimes.”

Jude's lopsided smile had him smiling back. Zero gave his hand a squeeze before letting go to put the car in park and turn off the engine, but he didn’t open the door. “What happens in there, it doesn’t matter.” He gestured between them, “Not like this. Not like us.”

Despite sitting in public, Jude reached for him. The kiss was brief, but Zero let his hand linger on Jude’s clean shaven cheek. A gesture of that unexpected _want_.

“We go exactly as far as you want with this,” Jude answered.

They looked at each other for a minute and then Zero grinned and threw one of the baseball caps from the console at him. Jude laughed and they both put on their hats, pulling them low to shadow their faces. It would be just their luck to be spotted and captured on someone’s smartphone. 

It wasn’t a high-end law firm Zero noted, thankful their casual attire didn’t stand out more. Not that there was anything wrong with the office, but the decor lacked the spectacles of wealth that his own attorney displayed. The space had once been a home, converted when the area was rezoned for commercial use as the Los Angeles population swelled into the outer suburbs. This errand had taken them to the area around Elysian Park, thankfully away from their usual stomping ground.

Zero let Jude take the lead. “We have a 12:30 appointment with Paul Reynolds,” the other man told the receptionist.

“He asked me to show you to our conference room,” the thin, dark-haired woman said, smiling as she gestured for them to round the desk and follow her down a short hallway to a sparse, but clean room. It held only a dark, heavy wood table large enough to seat six and some generic prints on the walls.

“He will be right in. Would you like some coffee? Water?”

Zero felt his gut knot. He shook his head and Jude politely declined for them both.

The room wasn’t really large enough to pace the way he wanted, but he took a couple steps around the table anyway and scrubbed his hands over the scruff of his stubble. Jude reached for him, but before he could speak the door opened and a man in his fifties with gray, receding hair entered the room with a file storage box.  

“Thank you so much for coming,” he greeted as he set the box down. His eyes lit on Zero with recognition, but otherwise he gave no indication that there was anyone particularly notable in the room. “I’m Paul Reynolds. I appreciate that this must be quite unexpected.”

Reynolds shook hands with them both and gestured for them to take a seat. He opened the file storage box and pulled out a smaller box, the kind people used to collect photos and mementos. Suddenly it all felt too civilized.

“It was unexpected. I didn’t expect that a woman who abandoned her children more than twenty years ago would spare a thought for them on her death bed,” Zero shot.

He felt Jude’s hand grasp his knee under the table, but Reynolds took it in stride. “I met your mother about five years ago so I only know what she shared with me, but I hope what you leave with today will give you some closure and help you think better of her.”

“Were you friends?” Jude asked when Zero stayed silent.

“Not exactly, but I did grow to respect her in the years we knew one another. I suppose it would be easiest to start there. It has sadly come full circle. When Jane’s own mother passed away I was tasked with finding her to settle the estate,” Reynolds began.

Zero froze, “Wait. I had grandparents?” He would have come out of his chair if it wasn’t for Jude’s hand squeezing his thigh. “She let us go to foster care when we had family?”

Reynolds looked grave, “I'm afraid it isn’t that simple. Jane left you letters, some about her childhood, but I can sum it up to say that her father was abusive to both her and her mother who never stood up to him. That was something Jane could never forgive and she married to get out of that house at a young age. She divorced after only a year, but it lasted long enough for her to pick up her husband’s drug habit. At first it was just marijuana, but she also got her first taste of cocaine. Then the abuse started.”

Jude looked at him, “Her husband, that wasn’t…”

Zero felt chilled.

“No,” Reynolds continued. “They never had any children. Jane left and spent the next couple of years alternating between periods of drug use and sobriety, moving from town to town, and taking odd jobs to get by. It was during one of her clear patches that she did meet your father.

“She was waitressing at an all-night diner in Las Vegas. He was married with a son, but things weren’t going well at home so he would bring his paperwork to the diner and sit for hours. When they started the affair, Jane didn’t think much of what it meant to sleep with a married man, but eventually she realized she had feelings for him and then that she was pregnant.”

Reynolds paused to let the information settle.

“I have a half-brother?” Zero finally got out.

“And a father,” Reynolds agreed. “Jane felt guilty about the affair when she learned more about his family and their difficulties. Your sister was born during one of her wilder phases, but even though she left without telling him about you, she never forgot your father.”

“Why now?” Zero asked. He could feel his heart racing with adrenaline and he was sweating. “Why didn’t she get you to find me and Laura when she could tell us this herself?”

Reynolds face creased in sadness, “Jane abused drugs most of her life. One day her dealer made a comment about the market for young children and it scared her into realizing she was out of control. Knowing her own childhood, she hoped you would both have a better chance in the system, away from her parents and her addiction. She swore she would get clean and regain custody, but sheer will wasn’t enough to get her there.

“It wasn’t until the sale of her childhood home allowed her to enter a quality treatment program that she managed to get clean and stay that way for more than a few months. She was sober for two years and was consulting with me on how to find you and Laura when she got the cancer diagnosis. She struggled with the decision, but she decided it wasn’t fair to invite herself into your lives and burden you with her illness and her death.”

Zero felt nauseous. “I need a minute,” he said and stood up, but he didn’t know where to go so he walked to the far wall to stare at a color print of a tree-lined boulevard. Jude spoke in a hushed tone and then the door opened. He heard Reynolds's muted footsteps on the carpet as he left, came back, and left again while shutting the door behind him.

He looked down as Jude pressed a bottle of water into his hand. Zero opened it and drained it in one go, hoping the hydration would calm the unsteady tempo of his heart. Jude came behind him and pulled them close, back to chest.

“Breathe,” Jude urged in his ear. “I think you’re having an anxiety attack.”

Yeah, that explained why he felt like he was going to die. He did as he was told and breathed in time with the slow circles Jude rubbed into his chest. After a couple of minutes, he realized he had leaned into the other man to the point where Jude was the only thing holding him up.

He stilled Jude’s hand with his own and shifted his balance back to his own two feet, “What do we do?”

“We can just go home.” Jude’s breath tickled his neck.

Zero swallowed. “I don’t think I can walk away. I have a brother and a father. And there is still Laura.”

“Whatever we do it doesn’t have to be right now. We can get the rest of the details from Reynolds before we go or we can schedule another meeting if you want some time to think. Either way, nothing needs to happen today.”

Jude was right, but there was no way he could leave without knowing the rest. He slowly pulled away from Jude and turned to face him. “Can you get him? I want to finish this.”

A worried look and a quick kiss was his answer. While Jude was gone he settled himself back in his chair. He felt ready when they came back.

“What happens now?” Zero asked.

Reynolds looked at him with concern, but answered. “Jane left both you and your sister a collection of letters and photographs she wanted you to have. You are welcome to take yours with you today. I have spoken with Laura and while she has accepted the items Jane left, she has declined the opportunity to open up communication with you at this time. She wanted me to tell you that she isn’t ready to look back on that part of her life. I didn’t tell her any details, but she was happy to hear that you are well and she hopes that someday she will be able to meet with you.”

Zero nodded. His own reaction put things in perspective and he was glad now that he had not forced his presence on her months ago. “What about my father and half-brother?” he asked.

“Jane was clear that nothing was to happen without your consent, though I have confirmed that your father still lives in Las Vegas. If you wish to proceed, Jane instructed that I contact him on your behalf. A paternity test will be a part of the arrangement and when it is confirmed and you both agree I can help you arrange a meeting.”

Reynolds folded his hands in front of him on the table and waited. When Zero didn’t speak he continued, “You can take all the time you need to think about it. You have my contact information so you can call me with your decision at any time.”

Zero felt Jude’s worried gaze, but his voice was surprisingly calm when he replied, “I don’t need time. I want to do it.”


	3. Jude

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “You could hold me and I could hold you. And it would be so peaceful. Completely peaceful. Like the feeling of sleep, but awake in it together.”  
> ― John Green, Will Grayson, Will Grayson

Jude woke to the heavy starch of hotel linen and an empty bed. He wiped the sleep from his eyes and settled on his back, noting the hint of morning light dancing through a gap in the drapes. It was early and he hadn’t gotten much sleep. He wondered if Gideon had slept at all.

A glance at the nightstand told him that they still had time before their flight back to Los Angeles. They arrived in Columbus, Ohio the day before for a night game against Gideon’s old team. He generally had too much work of his own to justify traveling with the team on away games, but he had appealed to Jelena this time.

“Go,” she told him without hesitation. “I don’t know what is going on, but make sure he keeps it together, Jude. We can’t afford any more hits right now.”

Not unexpectedly, Jude read a hint of actual concern for the man and not just the commodity in her expression. One day after Gideon picked up Miguel from school, Jude had found man and boy sitting together as Gideon helped Miguel practice his reading homework. He had been surprised to find Jelena quietly watching them.

“He is good with him,” Jelena stated when he approached.

“Yeah, he can relate,” he said, knowing Jelena was familiar with some of Gideon’s past.

She smirked, “And you can’t?”

_Touché._

Despite Jelena’s softening toward Gideon, he knew she always had her eye on the business side of things. He had seen their head coach, Pete Davenport, leave her office earlier and he suspected the purpose of his visit was to share his concerns about their star player. Gideon had been quiet, almost lethargic since their meeting with Paul Reynolds.

Jane Ellis’s estate didn’t have the budget for a trip down to Las Vegas for Reynolds to see Gideon’s father in person, but after some discussion they agreed it would be better to break the news in a face to face meeting. Gideon footed the bill, but the in-person aspect of it meant Reynolds had to arrange the meeting without giving too much away and then clear his own schedule for the trip. It took two weeks but the meeting was happening today. In fact, they would likely be getting a call when they landed back in L.A.

So far Gideon hadn’t had another anxiety attack, but Jude still worried. He wished his partner would open up, but you can’t break a lifelong habit overnight. Jude tried to make his presence and support felt and for once he didn’t push. He wasn’t sure that was the answer this time.

Jude levered himself up and out of bed and stumbled to the bathroom to pee and go through the morning essentials. He pulled on a bathrobe before heading into the sitting area of their suite. He was relieved to see Gideon, robe-clad and slumped in an armchair turned to face the floor to ceiling windows that looked out over early morning Columbus, a cup of coffee cooling on the floor by his foot.

Jude took a moment to appreciate the way the light glinted off the light brown stubble on the other man’s strong jaw and set his bleach blond hair alight. There was no doubt this man was beautiful, but the depth of him was what Jude found irresistible.

Gideon didn’t look up as he approached. Jude retrieved the coffee cup and took a sip. He grimaced. It had gone cold. He sat it on the table behind them before perching on one of the high arms of Gideon’s chair. That is when the other man finally turned to look at him.

In profile, Jude only saw the right side of his face, but now he could observer the evidence of last night’s skirmish on the court in the deep purple of Gideon’s left cheek. Jude touched his jaw, tilting his face to better see the damage.

“Does it bring out my eyes?” Gideon joked.

His cheek was badly swollen and the skin under the eye looked puffy. “At least he didn’t break your nose. Are you sure he didn’t fracture your cheekbone?”

Gideon huffed, “I’m fine, ma. I’ve had worse from guys tougher than Chris Giordano.”

Jude turned to look out the window, holding in check his remembered panic from the night before when the fight broke out. Gideon and Christian Giordano were on the same team before Gideon’s move to the Devils. The two men hadn’t been close, but there wasn't any animosity between them either, which is why when Gideon reached to intercept the ball and accidentally put his elbow in Chris’s chest, no one expected the returning right hook.

When Gideon was knocked down by the blow his fellow players closed rank around him, getting in Giordano’s face even as the opposing team moved to hold him back. Jude lost sight of Gideon in the commotion and his own anxiety from the past weeks pushed him into an irrational panic before the court finally cleared and he caught sight of his partner.

“Hey,” Gideon said, and Jude knew he was being watched. “The medic checked and its fine, but if you want I know what you could do to make me feel better.”

Jude looked at him and felt his pulse speed up at that familiar suggestive grin.

“You do?”

Gideon grabbed Jude's robe in both fists and used it to pull him down into the chair. It was a big chair, but not meant for two men so Jude landed half in the other man’s lap. He let out a laugh even as Gideon kissed him. Jude felt the answering smile against his lips and emotion surged in his chest.

The kiss grew more heated, but the angle was wrong. Jude got up, discarded the robe and turned around to kneel on the chair, legs bracketing Gideon who ran his hands down Jude’s chest toward the tent in his underwear. Jude grabbed his wrists and used his leverage to force the other man back in the chair to take control of the kiss. He felt the aborted movements as his partner unconsciously went to reach for him again, but Jude held him in place with no real effort.

Gideon gasped for a breath when Jude finally abandoned the kiss to trail his lips over the other man’s neck and the part of his chest he could reach through the gap in the robe. When he couldn’t reach any lower, he gave Gideon a look that said _stay_ , and released him to undo the robe and grasp the band of his boxers. Gideon lifted to let him pull the garment down his legs.

There was quick intake of breath when Jude’s mouth met the other man’s nipple. He probed the nub with the tip of his tongue before bringing his mouth down to suck on it and the surrounding skin. He felt Gideon shudder and grip the arms of the chair when he used his teeth and then soothed the abused skin with a lick. 

Gideon’s abdominals quivered under Jude’s fingers as they teased their way down past his belly button. He was kneeling on the floor between Gideon’s splayed thighs and he kneaded them with both hands as he let his mouth follow the trail of his fingers. He continued until he felt the wet tip of Gideon’s cock nudge his cheek. He fisted his partner with firm strokes and looked up to lock eyes before taking him into his mouth. Gideon bite his lip as he watched.

Jude hadn’t come to their relationship with any experience. Besides that one time with Lucas, there was never anyone else and Jude wasn’t sure if he could so wantonly appreciate this act with another man. He loved the sensation of hot swollen flesh against his lips and tongue as he played with first the head and then moved deeper. His gag reflex had improved, but he still needed to use his hand to make up for the last inch or so. Gideon seemed appreciative all the same. With his other hand he kneaded the heavy balls below and used a finger to massage that sensitive bit of skin behind them.

Gideon shifted down in the seat to give him better access and then the other man’s hand found his head as he lost the ability to restrain himself. Jude enjoyed the caress as Gideon explored the play of muscled in his jaw as he worked to suck him.

Jude knew he was close so he gathered some saliva to coat the finger he was using to explore Gideon’s taint. This time, he went further and massaged the tight whirl of his partner’s entrance. When Gideon had time to think about it he usually resisted having his ass played with, but when he was close like this it never failed to send him over the edge. It took only one fingertip working its way in to the second knuckle before Gideon was grabbing his head and pushing himself deep. Jude felt the spasms against his tongue before the taste of release. He swallowed as best he could, but he still felt some run down his chin. He let Gideon slip gently from his mouth before wiping his face on his discarded robe.  

Jude shed his own underwear and went back to straddling Gideon’s thighs. His own hard cock dancing against Gideon’s abs as strong arms pulled him down for a searching kiss.

Gideon started to slide down further in the chair. “Get up here,” he said indicating Jude’s cock.

“It’s not going to take much,” Jude said, stopping him. He really just wanted Gideon’s arms around him. The other man obliged with one hand skimming his back while the other found his cock. Jude gasped into their kiss as the knowing hand sent tingles from his dick all the way up his spine.  Gideon held them close with a hand to the back of his neck as Jude gasped out his release between them.

Jude collapsed against Gideon’s chest, the evidence of their activities cooling between them. It was a long time before they moved.

 

It was mid-afternoon when they finally walked through the door of Jude’s apartment. Gideon took one look at the boxes stacked against the walls and groaned, “I miss our hotel room already. How much longer are we going to live like this?”

“We’re between a rock and a hard place. It’s this or the construction zone,” Jude replied, but he agreed. Gideon’s house had sold and over the past week they had been squeezing his things into a storage unit near their new house until the construction was completed. They had also started packing up Jude’s apartment in the hopes that their move-in date wouldn’t get pushed back again.

It was a bit sad really. They always spent more time at Jude’s and to see the walls of the place that witnessed so much of their relationship be stripped bare was bittersweet. Not for the first time he worried that moving into Gideon’s childhood foster home might be a mistake. He had done all that he could to ensure that the space was unrecognizable, hoping to exorcise ghosts by tearing down walls and ripping up flooring.

Together they started the dance of unpacking their bags, starting laundry, and glancing despondently into the cabinets for dinner all while dodging towers of boxes and avoiding the elephant in the room. It was a relief when the phone finally rang.  Jude glanced at the screen as he grabbed it off the counter.

“It’s Paul Reynolds,” he said as he held it out. 

Gideon stared at the phone before finally taking it. He answered and put it on speaker. 

“This is Gideon and Jude. Do you have news for us?”

“Sorry I kept you waiting. Your father, he had a lot of questions, but he has agreed to go forward with the paternity test.”

Gideon looked looked like a deer caught in the headlights. “That’s great!” Jude responded to fill the silence. “What was his reaction when you told him?”

“He remembered Jane. He wasn’t proud of their affair, but he seemed genuinely fond of her. Regardless of the outcome of the test, he is willing to talk to you if you want to hear more about what she was like in the months they knew each other. I have his contact details. He was gutted when I told him you had grown up in foster care,” Reynolds summarized.

Gideon finally found his voice, “What’s his name?”

“William Reid.”


	4. Spencer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “I take pleasure in my transformations. I look quiet and consistent, but few know how many women there are in me.”  
> ― Anaïs Nin

Spencer Reid stood in the open doorway of his second floor walkup. He stared into the darkness of his apartment, noting the quiet. The solitude.

His mother, Diana Reid, hadn’t lived with him for long, but now that she was gone, placed in a nearby care facility to manage her schizophrenia and her progressing dementia, his home seemed empty. He didn’t regret the change. He couldn’t. Not after she was kidnapped by Lindsey Vaughn as part of Cat Adams’s plot to exact revenge.

He flicked on the light and entered the apartment, shutting and bolting the door behind him. His selfish insistence that he care for his mother so he could explore alternative treatments for her dementia had put her in danger and impacted her quality of life. When it was all over he considered taking her back to Las Vegas. She still had friends there she would enjoy spending time with, but with her periods of clarity getting shorter he wanted as much time with her as he could get.

The truth was Spencer had been prepared to pack up and move with her back to Las Vegas had the FBI not reinstated him. It was a plan he created while reasoning that losing his identity as Supervisory Special Agent Dr. Spencer Reid would be OK. The surge of relief he felt when he was reinstated, even with conditions, made him a liar.

For every 100 days on the job, he was now mandated to take 30 days off to ensure he didn’t come unglued in the field and embarrass the Bureau. He felt better about it now, after Emily suggested he spend some time on the training circuit teaching other agents, but initially it made him doubt himself.

During his six week of leave and required counseling he worked hard to get better, but he was terrified by both his rage and his experience with Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome. The tunnel vision, a symptom of PTSS, showed him how close he was to his greatest fear: losing his mind. While he had recovered, he still struggled with the rage he felt toward Peter Lewis. Mr. Scratch.

For the first time he truly wanted to take the life of another human being. Spencer had shot and killed in the line of duty, but always to protect himself or others. Luke Alvez was the one on that roof top with Peter Lewis when he fell to his death. As much as he knew Luke followed procedure that day, he knew if it had been him he would have helped Lewis along to his end and slept well for it.

He confided this to Emily during their latest case and she reassured him she had no reservations about his returning to the team. It wasn’t until he successfully talked William Lynch into putting down the utility knife and releasing his intended victim, Helen Pierce, that he felt he could agree with her. He was different after having his memories manipulated and spending time in prison being framed for murder, but in some ways he was better. Spencer felt less a need for his previous coping mechanisms. His germ phobia, his long tangents on facts and figures, and all the other devices he used to keep others at arm’s length no longer felt necessary.

Spencer realized he had been standing in his living room for some time. He made himself move to the bedroom, which was now his again. He secured his weapon and went through his routine of unpacking his ‘go bag’ and filling it with fresh clothes in preparation for the next case.  As he made his way around the room, he paused to touch the cover of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s _A Narrative of John Smith_ that sat at his bedside. The memory of Mauve and all the lost possibilities still hurt, but maybe it was time to open himself up. Maybe he was ready.

He picked up the book and carried it to the living room where he carefully placed it on one of his many bookshelves. He resolved to leave it there this time and not return to it until he could do so with more fondness than pain.  

As he stepped back he saw the blinking light of his answering machine. Panic hit until he remembered that they would have called his cellphone if it was about his mother. He pushed play.

“Spencer, this is…this is your dad. I didn’t want to bother you if you were on a case, but when you have a chance give me a call.”

William Reid sounded more hesitant than usual in his message. He had walked out when Spencer was ten and ever since they met again several years ago, he called on birthdays and holidays like clockwork. Spencer knew the man talked to his mother on the phone occasionally and he had offered to help with her care. Even so, Spencer didn’t know how to have a relationship with him. The last time they saw each other was during an awkward dinner after his mother’s dementia diagnosis. Spencer hadn’t even told his father about his time in prison.

Spencer looked at his watch. It was nearing midnight, but that was only about 9pm Las Vegas time. He doubted William Reid was in bed. He might even still be at his office.

He dialed the number and the line was answered quickly.

“Spencer?”

“Yeah, it’s me, Dad. I got your message. Is everything alright?”

“You aren’t on a case are you? I don’t want to bother you if you are in the middle of something,” William Reid answered.

Spencer got a bad feeling about what the man had to say, “I just got home from wrapping up a case. What’s going on?”

The line was silent for a moment, then, “I thought about flying out to talk to you, but I know how busy you are and I decided I couldn’t wait. I’m not proud of this, Spencer. Promise me you won’t hang up?”

Spencer swallowed. This was going to be bad. “I promise.”

“When you were a kid, after the night your mother came home covered in blood, things were never the same between us.”

This much Spencer knew. When he was four years old a boy down the street named Riley Jenkins was sexually assaulted and murdered. Spencer dreamed about it for years and when as an adult those dreams led him to suspect that William Reid might have been involved, he insisted on the truth. That being, Diana Reid had been concerned about a man named Gary Michaels and she told Lou, Riley’s father. She walked in on Lou beating the man to death, getting covered in blood in the process. William Reid had burned her bloody clothes. They all kept it a secret until Spencer forced the issue.

William continued, “It was hard to talk to Diana about it, to get her to acknowledge the seriousness of that situation, much less her illness. I resented it, but the guilt I felt about something else is why I left. I had an affair, Spencer.”

“An affair,” Spencer repeated tonelessly. “Why are you telling me this now?”

There was an exhalation, “The affair lasted a couple months. She was a young waitress and one day she just left. I didn’t know until I was contacted by an attorney, but she was pregnant. You have a brother, Spencer.”

Spencer sank down heavily in the chair. His mind felt sluggish. “You have another son? I have a brother?”

“His name is Gideon.”

That brought his brain back online. “Gideon? How do you know for sure that he’s your son?” The BAU team had attracted enemies over the years and it wasn’t the first time they had been manipulated through friends and family. What better way to get a reaction than by referencing his former mentor’s name?

“There was a paternity test. We got the results two days ago and I spoke with him on the phone for the first time last night. He lives in Los Angeles and…”

“Paternity tests can be manipulated. What lab did you use?” Spencer was out of the chair and moving toward his desk. “Never mind, I’ll speak to someone at the Las Vegas field office about a trustworthy lab. Everyone will need to provide another sample.”

“Spencer, I know this is upsetting but aren’t you being a little paranoid? You sound like your mother.”

Spencer froze. The silence on the other end of the line told him his father realized his mistake. More calmly than he felt he said, “I’m not paranoid. I work for the FBI. Sometimes people really are out to get me.”

“Spencer…” William started.

“I’ll call you in the morning with arrangements on another lab,” Spencer was firm.

“Gideon and his partner are traveling to Las Vegas this weekend. I’m going to meet them,” William countered.

“Do what you want, but don’t talk about me or my job.”

“What could I tell them that would hurt you?” William reasoned.

“Yeah Dad, what _could_ you tell them about me. I’ll call you tomorrow.” Spencer hung up the phone before his father could answer. Technically he broke his promise, but he would undoubtedly regret the things he said if the conversation continued. The man who walked out on him and his mother was embracing a stranger as his son without hesitation and being compared to his mother and her mental illness didn't help. It hit too close to Spencer’s own fears.

Regardless, he was worried and he knew he couldn’t ignore the situation if there was a possibility someone had decided to target his father. _Gideon_. Could it really be a coincidence? He should have kept his father on the phone so he could get more information. At least enough to have Penelope do a discreet background check. 

Spencer grabbed his messenger bag and pulled out the information Emily had given him about teaching. He had planned to spend his 30 days at Quantico teaching new agents to be close to his mother, but there were other opportunities.  Field offices and local law enforcement often put in requests for continuing education at sites all across the country.  

Los Angeles was on the list.


	5. Spencer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “If you dare nothing,  
> then when the day is over,  
> nothing is all you will have gained.”  
> ― Neil Gaiman, The Graveyard Book

The faces of two victims stared at Spencer Reid from the board in front of him and there would be more if they couldn’t crack this case. A string of robberies that escalated to robbery homicides had brought them to Albuquerque, New Mexico. The first four robberies had been low security targets like gas stations, bodegas, and other small cash businesses. By comparison, the latest two robberies were check cashing businesses with more money on hand and more security which unfortunately led to a higher level of violence. 

The unsub had been familiar with the routines at each location. That along with Spencer’s geographical profile suggested the possibility that he had at one time worked a delivery route or provided some other service to those locations.

“Do we have anything, Reid?” JJ asked as she came into the conference room with two cups of coffee.

“I asked Garcia to crosscheck vendors for each business and put together a list of employees and drivers. I’m waiting to hear back. You?”

JJ handed him a coffee. “We’ll know more when we get the security footage, but these witnesses reported the same thing. The unsub deliberately shot the security guard first, he used a note to demand the money, and never said a word. He did only what was necessary to get in and out. A witness did report he had something wrong with his eye and he purposefully avoided looking at the body of his victim.”

“Remorse,” Reid stated as he sipped his coffee. “Something must have triggered the unsub to escalate his targets. He sees shooting the guard as a requirement for getting away with the robbery in these more secure locations. He isn’t taking any enjoyment from the actual murder.”

JJ nodded her agreement, “He needs the money for a specific purpose and he's looking for a larger score either because the amount he needs has increased or he’s running out of time.”

Spencer thought for a moment, “What exactly did the witnesses say about the unsub’s eye?”

JJ referenced her notes, “They said he kept blinking, like when you have something in your eye.”

“Could be a blepharospasm: a mechanical disorder of the eye;or a facial tic. Either can be exacerbated by periods of stress. If it’s a chronic condition he may have been treated for it,” Reid responded while studying the board.

The room was quiet for several minutes when JJ broke the silence, “So Spence, how are things with your Dad?”

They were lucky enough to enjoy a rare weekend off shortly after Spencer’s phone call with his father. He had been preoccupied, so it wasn’t a surprise when JJ invited him over for lunch with the family that Saturday. Like a well-rehearsed plan, JJ’s husband Will conveniently whisked Henry and Michael away with an excuse, leaving her and Spencer alone to talk. He wasn't ready to share the revelation that he might have a brother, but he did focus on the other part of the conversation with his father that bothered him.

“I’ve been talking to my dad,” he began.

“That’s good, Spence.”

“Yeah, but after what happened in Mexico and with my mom, I asked him to be careful what information he shares with his friends. He told me I sounded paranoid, like my mother,” he knew she would understand the impact of such a comment.  

JJ touched his arm, “Spence, most people don’t understand the impact of this job. Will is a cop so he gets why I want to avoid roadside motels, group food, and the dozens of other things that seem normal to everyone else. Your dad knows what you do, but he won’t understand it unless you explain it to him. You still haven’t told him about your time in prison, have you?”

Spencer shook his head. While he was incarcerated William Reid had called his apartment and talked to his mother. She didn’t have the focus in that moment to tell his father about his long absence, but JJ learned of it from the nurse. Garcia helped him by accepting his call from prison and then bringing William Reid in on the line so he wouldn’t know he was getting a call from a correctional facility. Spencer kept it short and told his father he was busy on a case.  

 “If you want a real relationship with him, you’re going to have to share things and give him a basis to understand,” JJ reasoned.

It had been difficult, but later that night Spencer called his father. It wasn’t fair to burden the man right then, knowing he was in the middle of his first visit with Gideon, but he would lose the nerve if he waited. Luckily he caught William Reid at home while his visitors were at their hotel getting ready for dinner and he seemed willing to listen.

“A few months ago, when I called you and said I was on a case in New York I lied,” he started. “I was actually at the Millburn Correctional Facility. I was in prison because I was being framed for murder.”

Spencer kept to the basics, but he was still nearly in tears by the time he got to the part about his mother being kidnapped. “She almost died and it would have been my fault,” he confessed.

He could tell his father was choked up, “You did what you could to protect her. I guess I never really understood what your job really means. When I think of it, I see you solving puzzles with that brain of yours. I don’t picture the danger.”

“I have to be cautious,” Spencer pressed. “I won’t take a chance that would put you, mom, or my friends in danger.”

William Reid promised not to share any details about Spencer, his team, or his daily life, but said he would continue getting to know his other son. Gideon had taken the request for a second paternity test in stride, his dad reported, but he could see the situation was stressful for him. “I’m not a profiler, but he has his own reasons to be cautious. You need to decide what you’re going to do when the test confirms this is real.”

“Spencer?” JJ called, breaking him from his reverie.

“Things are better,” he said, even though it felt like a lie. He still hadn’t told her about the sudden appearance of a man claiming to be a part of their family so he definitely couldn’t tell her about the message in his inbox. The email from the lab had come in while they were on the jet the day before, but between the lack of privacy and the fact that he didn’t need the distraction while on a case he was trying to pretend it wasn’t there.

JJ looked at him skeptically, but didn’t push. They both knew now wasn’t the time.

“Hey,” Matt Simmons said as he came through the door with an envelope. “They just sent over the security footage from the last crime scene. Prentiss wants someone to start looking it over and report back during the team meeting. Any takers?”

“I’ll take it,” Spencer said reaching for the package. “I want to see if there are other irregularities in the unsub’s behavior besides the blinking.”

“I’m going to see if they are done canvasing the neighborhood,” JJ said and left the room with Matt.

Spencer grabbed a chair and rolled it over to his laptop where he inserted the flash drive to bring up the needed files. There was footage from four cameras and he chose the angle that would give the point of view of the teller. Later they would need to examine all the footage for the hours leading up to the robbery, but for now he forwarded until he saw the timestamp for the event itself.

At first he just focused on the eye movement, but then he realized their was something else odd about the unsub's behavior. What was it? He grabbed for the file on the first robbery when his phone rang. He answered even as he began to flip through the pages.

“Garcia, can you check that list for any employees who have an adult child or other family member with a cognitive disability? We’re looking for someone who suffers from facial tics and possibly spent time in a structured environment.”

Silence.

“Garcia?” Reid looked at the phone. He didn’t recognize the number and he had been so lost in thought he hadn’t paid attention.

“This isn’t, Garcia,” a male voice answered. “My name is Jude Kinkade. I’m your brother’s partner.”

Spencer put down the file. “Partner?” he asked looking around, but he was alone.

The reply was challenging, “Yeah, his partner. His boyfriend. Is that a problem?”

Spencer got up and shut the door. “What? No! I was just expecting someone else. How did you get this number?” He asked and then remembered Gideon was visiting again this week. “Is my Dad OK?”

“I got your number from William’s phone.” There was a hint of embarrassment there, but then the hostile tone was back. “Everyone would be a hell of a lot better if they weren’t waiting on pins and needles to hear from you. I don’t care what issues you have with your dad and I’ll even accept you had a legitimate reason to ask for an additional paternity test, but none of that is Gideon’s fault. Even if you don’t want anything to do with him, he deserves to know so he can move on.”

While Spencer wanted to fire back at the stranger, another part of him could appreciate the protectiveness in the other man’s actions, even if having this conversation where anyone could walk in was making him sweat. “I’ve been in Albuquerque the past two days. I haven’t even looked at the email yet,” he finally admitted. “I guess this phone call means it’s a match.”

“99 percent probability,” came the cool reply.

“You’re right. I should have made time." He paused,"You must really care for Gideon.”

“I would do anything for him,” Jude replied like it was a fact.

Before more could be said, Spencer saw the commotion in the outer office and then Emily Prentiss came through the door. “Shots were fired at a small bank branch downtown. It looks like it’s turned into a hostage situation. We have to move.”

“Shots?” came the horrified voice on the phone.

Spencer was already moving, “I’ve got to go. I’ll call as soon as I can. I promise.”


	6. Zero

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Loving you, I understood myself.”  
> ― Kamand Kojouri

Zero gave a sigh of relief when he heard the car pull into the driveway of his Dad’s house. Yeah, his _Dad_. He was still figuring out how he felt about that. He and William Reid were still getting to know each other and on this second trip to Las Vegas the other man went all in by planning some bonding activities. Like fishing.

Having grown up on the hot asphalt of the L.A. streets with foster parents who couldn’t give a damn, he’d never really communed with nature much less gone fishing. Yet, before dawn Zero pulled himself away from Jude’s pliant body in their hotel bed to drive to Lake Mead for the day. Parts of it had been nice. The air around Lake Mead was fresh and the quiet soothing in a way he could appreciate since he was living in a construction zone. He thought of how Jude deserved such a break but the other man had begged off to stay behind and do work.

Jude was doing his best to give him and his Dad time to get to know each other. At first he suggested Zero take this trip to Las Vegas by himself, saying he should get to know his family. “You are family, stupid,” Zero told him.

William and Jude seemed to get along OK, though his partner was struggling with how William had walking out on his wife and son. It was too close to Jude’s own relationship with his father who had also left him to be raised by his mother. Jude struggled for years to win Oscar Kinkade’s love and acceptance, only receiving affection from the man when there was something he could get out of it.

Zero didn’t think William Reid was in the same league as Oscar, but it did make him consider what kind of relationship he wanted with him. During that first real conversation, when William confessed to walking out on his wife and son just a couple of years after the affair, he spoke of his regret at not knowing how to be a father to Spencer Reid. He seemed proud of his son, but at the same time Zero knew there was something he was missing about their relationship.

When William told them of the demand for an additional paternity test, he initially framed it as a product of hurt feelings and Spencer wanting to protect his mother who was not well. Then in the middle of their visit he changed course and William begged their understanding. He said Spencer had phoned and he had his reasons for making the request.  

William still seemed concerned though. At first Zero suspected he doubted the initial paternity test as well, but the man’s eagerness in getting to know him and Jude suggested that wasn’t the case. As William shared details about his early life, he painted a picture of a mentally ill wife and a ‘gifted’ son he couldn’t relate to and it seemed the man had doubts about Spencer’s emotional stability. Zero wasn’t familiar enough with the situation or the people involved to know if it was a fair assessment of his half-brother. Given his own screwed up childhood, could he even judge?

As they waited for the results of the second paternity test, William was visibly worried and Zero felt anxious. That surprised him. He didn’t know when he became so invested in connecting with these people. He could pass Spencer Reid on the street and not know him, but somehow the possibility of being rejected by the man mattered. For the first time Zero understood why it was so hard for Jude to give up on having a relationship with Oscar.

The paternity test results finally arrived the previous morning, but there was no word from Spencer Reid. William insisted his other son was a busy man and they should give him time, but Zero could see he didn’t fully believe it. There was a real possibility that Spencer was just not interested in getting to know his brother.  

After an entire day spent with his Dad, the silences between them still more awkward than companionable, seeing Jude walk toward the house was a relief. He brought with him a change of clothes for Zero to cleanup before they all shared a dinner of their catch at William’s home. Thankfully, his Dad was cleaning and prepping the fish and had told him to take the first shower. _Eau de fish_ was definitely not his favorite cologne. 

Jude looked on edge as he walked through the door. He had that furrow between his eyebrows, but he smiled when he caught sight of Zero. “Nice sunburn,” he said, tracing the tender skin of his cheek with a thumb. “You should put something on that.”

“My back too. You going to help me get the spots I can’t reach?” he teased. Jude just grinned and kissed him.

“Oh!” came a voice behind them. He and Jude separated to see William, his cellphone in hand. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.” The man looked embarrassed, but otherwise unbothered by their display.

“I was just about to get in the shower. Is everything OK?” Zero asked.

William indicated his phone. “I just got a text message from Spencer. He hates to text!” he said looking happy and relieved. He looked at the screen, “He says ‘Sorry I didn’t call am on a case. Talk soon. You can tell Gideon and Jude.’”

“Tell us what?” Jude asked.

There was pride in William’s voice when he replied, “It’s the reason Spencer wanted to be cautious. He works for the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the FBI.”

William told them more over dinner and when they were finished he produced a scrapbook of news clippings. Apparently, Spencer wasn’t just gifted. He was a genius with three doctorates.

“He really hunts serial killers?” Jude asked flipping through the scrapbook. “It sounds dangerous.”

William sipped his scotch. “I don’t think I ever considered how dangerous. Spencer is smart, but he was never athletic and I never pictured him actually taking down criminals. I always figured he spent most of his time evaluating from a distance.”

“But that isn’t the case?” Zero prompted after a moment.

His father looked a little haunted. “When he asked for the second paternity test I accused him of sounding like his mother. I’ll admit, I always feared he would lose the genetic lottery and inherited Diana’s schizophrenia. That didn’t happen, but I still worry about him mentally and emotionally. Then he called me during your last visit and told me about some of the things he has gone through. They’re Spencer’s stories to tell, but I understand better his concerns.”

Zero looked over Jude’s shoulder at the scrapbook. “I remember hearing about this one,” Jude pointed.

It was an article from a Los Angeles paper about a killer named Andrew Meeks who impersonated an FBI agent to get into women’s homes where he suffocated them. Meeks was killed at a traffic checkpoint after being confronted by police and FBI agents. It all happened not long before Zero joined the Devils.*

“I collect what articles I can find, but I know this isn’t everything. Spencer never shares many details. We don’t know how to talk to each other,” William said.

Zero reached over and flipped back to the beginning of the scrapbook. There was an article about Spencer joining the BAU at 22 as their youngest member. An accompanying photo showed a tall skinny kid. He had a small nose and cheeks that still had some baby fat. The few, more recent photos showed him with sharper angles, but the same delicate features. It was hard to picture him wielding a badge and gun in the face of a killer.

Jude pointed to the article, “It says he was brought into the unit by an Agent Jason Gideon.”

William nodded, “I never met the man, but he's a legend in the FBI. He died a few years ago. It didn’t occur to me until later that the coincidence of your name might have contributed to Spencer’s initial concerns.”

They sat looking at the articles for a few more minutes before William got up to begin clearing the table. Zero and Jude started to move to help, but the older man stopped them. “Take your time boys. I know you haven’t seen each other all day,” he said with a smile.

“He really doesn’t care?” Jude asked after he left the room.

Since Zero met William Reid he had been on the lookout for any sign he didn’t accept his relationship with Jude, but none every came. “He seems embarrassed by displays of affection, but I think it’s more that he’s been on his own for so long,” Zero said. He closed the scrapbook and leaned in to kiss Jude, “I did miss you today.”

When they separated, Jude smiled, “I missed you too.”

Together they started gathering the rest of the plates. Zero yawned, the early wakeup and the day in the sun was catching up to him. “Do you think we need to stick around to see if Spencer calls?” he asked. “It’s getting late and I don’t know how long we should wait.”

Jude looked at his watch before picking up a stack of plates to carry into the kitchen. “Albuquerque is an hour ahead so if we don’t hear from him soon I doubt he will call tonight,” he replied.

“Albuquerque?” Zero asked, but Jude was already leaving the room.

The three men made short work of dinner cleanup. Zero kept an eye on Jude and was about to suggest they turn in when William’s cellphone finally rang.

“Spencer, I’m here with Gideon and his partner Jude. You caught them just before they headed back to their hotel,” William said with the phone on speaker.

“Sorry it’s so late. We just wrapped up a case and we’re getting ready to fly back to D.C.,” came the soft voice of Spencer Reid through the phone. It was Zero’s first time hearing him, but he could detect a note of weariness.

“Are you alright?” William asked and Zero knew he wasn’t the only one.

“I’m fine, Dad.”

William looked distraught, “Spencer…?”

“It didn’t end well, but my team and I are safe,” Spencer said. It was clear he didn’t want to talk about it, at least not with all of them listening. There was silence then Spencer audibly cleared his throat. “I’m sorry. Gideon, Jude, did my Dad have a chance to explain everything?”

Zero didn’t often struggle with a loss for words, but he did right then. “Yeah, um this is Gideon. We’re glad you called and that you’re safe,” he finally got out.

“Thanks,” he said and Zero sensed he was struggling too. “I don’t have a lot of time, but I would like to talk more. It was just confirmed that I’ll be in Los Angeles providing instruction to the field office and local law enforcement. It’s still a few weeks out, but we could make plans.”

The end came out sounding uncertain, more like a question, but William was smiling. “It will be great to have you all together. I could try and take some time off as well,” he replied.

Zero felt his own relief knowing Spencer was interested in getting to know him, but he was concerned the other man was at a disadvantage and it wasn’t fair to let him come to Los Angeles without warning him.

“Spencer, Jude and I are looking forward to meeting you, but... are you a basketball fan at all? Are you familiar with the L.A. Devils?” he asked.

“Basketball?” Spencer asked, puzzled. “I’m more familiar with the game in terms of statistics, but I did go to Caltech. I think the Devils just barely made it into the playoffs this year?”

“Yeah, we just won against Houston in the Western Conference Quaterfinals. We play Denver in the Semifinals next week,” Zero replied.

“You’re a professional basketball player,” Spencer said without missing a beat.

“Most people don’t know me as Gideon. They call me ‘Zero’,” he said.

“And Jude?” Spencer asked.

Jude spoke for the first time, “I’m not a player. I was Gideon’s agent, but now I’m Executive Vice President of the Devils. The media attention can get pretty bad, so you should know.”

“No, I…” Spencer paused then his voice was muffled as he spoke to someone else. “Thanks. Thanks for telling me,” He said when he came back. “We’re getting on the jet to head home. Can we talk again later?”

Zero was feeling better about the conversation, “Yeah, we can do that.”

It was late when they got back to the hotel and thought Zero was tired he could see something was up with Jude. He waited while they went about getting ready for bed.

Finally, Jude blurted, “I called him.”

“Did you think I didn’t know?” Zero didn’t have to ask who.

“You knew?”

Zero smiled, “I didn’t at first, but I started to wonder when Spencer’s text mentioned your name. You were looking tense and I didn’t think William had shared many details about us yet, to be fair. I knew for sure when you mentioned Albuquerque.”

Jude’s brow furrowed. “I told him off and then I heard someone else say something about ‘shots fired’. I didn’t know if I had heard correctly or if I had messed everything up for you. I just couldn’t watch you wait anymore,” he said.

Zero turned his back on Jude for a moment to go to his suitcase. When he turned back around his partner was looking at the floor and waiting for his response. He felt the tension in the other man as he stepped in front of him and put a hand on his shoulder.

“I love how you would do anything for me,” Zero started. “You put up with my moods, my bitching, my family drama. These past weeks you have been all that has kept me together. I’ve never had a person in my life who I could depend on to love me and believe in me the way you do. I realized…I realized that I want to be that person for you too.

“I thought I would wait for the right time, but I guess I’m just going to do this in a crappy Las Vegas hotel.” Zero opened the jewelry box he had retrieved from his luggage, “Jude Kinkade, will you marry me?”

Jude stared open mouth at the box, but didn’t say anything. “Did you want me to get down on one knee?” Zero joked nervously.

That broke the spell and Jude laughed, throwing his arms around him. Zero hugged him back, feeling his partner’s uneven breaths. His own emotions felt like they were about to boil over.

Finally, they separated and Jude’s eyes looked bright. “Is that a yes?” Zero managed to tease.

Jude framed his face in his hands. “Of course it’s yes, stupid.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *References Criminal Minds e15s11"A Badge and a Gun". Spencer Reid is the one to shoot and kill Andrew Meeks during the standoff between FBI and police at a traffic checkpoint.


	7. Spencer & Jude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Never was anything great achieved without danger.”  
> ― Niccolò Machiavelli

“Yesterday afternoon authorities in Buffalo, New York were conducting a search of Nature View Park for a ten-year-old who got lost while hiking with his family. Thankfully, the boy was found safe, but the dogs they brought out for the search found something far more gruesome,” Penelope Garcia explained as she started the case brief.

Spencer Reid looked down at his file as she continued, “Five bodies were discovered in shallow graves in varying stages of decomposition. The most recent victim was 35-year-old Stephanie Marshall. She was reported missing by her husband three months ago. According to the preliminary autopsy report, she was killed two weeks ago by strangulation. Authorities are still working to identify the other victims.”

“It says here that Stephanie Marshall showed signs of torture and rape. Do we know if this is consistent with the other victims?” Luke Alvez asked.

Garcia made a face, “As you can see from the photos, which I am not looking at, the other bodies were significantly more decomposed, but what evidence there is suggests that is the case. However, in terms of victimology, one of these things is not like the other. The remains of what is believed to be the fourth victim is a male.”

“Most rapists stick to a certain type of victim. Could we be looking at a team?” Emily questioned.

“Actually,” Spencer chimed in as he looked over the preliminary report, “recent studies of incarcerated sex offenders suggest that crossover in victimology is more common than previously thought. As much as 20 percent have admitted in interviews to having a prior victim of a different gender. I wouldn’t rule out that we are dealing with a single unsub.”

“Defining the signature here will tell us more about whether we are looking for an individual or a team,” Matt Simmons agreed.

“Whoever we’re looking for is organized,” JJ commented. “Stephanie Marshall’s car was found at home and there was no sign of a struggle and no witnesses. He probably used a ruse and then managed to keep her captive for months without being detected. That takes some skill.”

“The planning, the length of time he kept the victims, and the consistency of the torture suggests we are probably looking for a sexual sadist,” David Rossi added.

“It also suggests he's had plenty of time to perfect his technique. I doubt these five victims were his first. Wheels up in 30,” Emily concluded.

Spencer gathered his files and was about to head out with the rest of the team when Emily stopped him, “Spencer, I know you were hoping to leave a few days early for your teaching assignment to visit your Dad, but with Tara away giving testimony at a hearing, we could really use you on this case. If we don’t get this one solved in time, could you stay on until Tara can join us? It should only be another day.”

“Sure,” Spencer agreed and he was ashamed at how quickly. His feelings about facing his father, Gideon, and Jude in person were mixed. “My Dad’s going to be visiting me in L.A. too, so we have time.”

Emily smiled, “That’s great. JJ mentioned you had been talking to him more lately. It sounds like he’s really excited to spend more time with you.”

Spencer bit his lip as he considered telling her the truth. Emily had always been someone he could confide in, sometimes even more than JJ. He had chosen not to tell the rest of the team about Gideon and Jude because he couldn’t stand the thought of being continuously questioned and profiled when he was still trying to figure out how he felt. But Emily had put so much on the line for him when he was in prison. Not telling her felt like betrayal.

“He does want to spend time with me, but some family new is what prompted the visit,” Spencer started.

Emily’s look turned to concern and Spencer saw her fear. She’d told him she was glad to have him back on the team, but he still wondered if she and the others were just waiting for the other shoe to drop. “Spencer, is everything OK?” She asked.

Spencer made himself smile, “It’s nothing bad. I’m just not sure how I feel about it yet so I haven’t told anyone, but it is why I requested to go out to Los Angeles. It gives me a chance to see my Dad and figure it all out.”

“Promise me you’ll call us if there is anything you need,” she said, touching his arm.

Spencer could see she was still worried. “I promise,” he said.

He headed out to the bullpen to stop at his desk. He grabbed his ‘go bag’ but went ahead and got out his cellphone when he saw the others were elsewhere or otherwise occupied.

When William Reid answered the phone, he sounded distracted and Spencer knew he had caught him at work. “Hi Dad,” he greeted.

“Spencer! I wasn’t expecting to hear from you today. Is everything OK?”

He got that question a lot lately. “Everything’s fine. We’re about to head up to Buffalo, New York for a case. We’re an agent down so if we don’t wrap it up in time I might need to push my flight back a day. I just wanted to let you know,” Spencer replied, trying to sound upbeat.

“I can’t say I’m not disappointed,” William’s tone was neutral, but Spencer could sense what went unsaid. Ever since he told his dad about his time in prison, the man seemed to tense up whenever he mentioned work. He had even suggested at one point how great it would be to have both his sons close by on a more permanent basis.

“I know, but it might not matter if we finish up in time. I’ll let you know for sure if it comes to that,” Spencer tried to reassure him.

William sighed over the line, “OK. Just don’t forget to pack a suit for the engagement party.”

“See you in a few days,” Spencer said and rang off.

Spencer wasn’t sure what he was going to say when William Reid finally laid out his change of heart regarding his oldest son working for the FBI. So far, it was just subtle digs about the danger and how moving to the west coast would give him more opportunity to get to know his brother. One way or the other, the conversation was coming. Spencer just didn’t know if his Dad was going to pull Gideon and Jude into it and stage an intervention. 

The morning after their first phone conversation, Jude had called Spencer to apologize.

“I hope it’s not too early,” Jude said. “You must have gotten in late. I just wanted to apologize for calling yesterday. It sounds like you had enough going on.”

“I know what it’s like to want to protect the people you care about. Is Gideon there with you?” Spencer asked.

“No, I told him to go have breakfast with your Dad and that I wanted to call and apologize for yesterday,”

“You told him? Was he upset?” Spencer asked, curious to know more about the dynamics of their relationship.

“I confessed when we got back to the hotel. He’s been so stressed about this and the construction on our house, I was sure he would be upset. But he had already figured it out and his reaction wasn’t what I expected.”

Jude sounded OK on the phone, but Spencer was still concerned. “What did he do?”

The other man laughed, “He proposed.”

“Really?” Spencer asked, but he grinned a little at the happiness he could hear in the other’s voice. “Congratulations.”

“I hope he doesn’t mind my telling you. He’s probably telling William as we speak. I just needed to say it out loud. I guess after telling you off yesterday I feel like we broke the ice,” Jude joked.

Spencer understood. For some reason he felt surprisingly at ease talking to the other man, but the warning from Gideon and Jude yesterday about the media left him thinking about the warning he needed to give them. It had kept him up the entire flight home.

“I’m happy for you both,” Spencer started. “I…I think it’s only fair I warn you that being in my life can be dangerous.”

“William seemed worried about you last night. He said he hadn’t realized how dangerous your job was, but he didn’t give many details,” Jude replied, more serious now.

“This job has risks and my team accepts that, but the hard part is knowing the enemies we make can use the people we care about against us. A few months ago it almost got my Mom killed.” Spencer found it easier to say this to Jude than to his father, but he still felt his pulse race at the memory.

“What happened?” Jude asked after a moment.

Spencer chose to start with the type of predator they dealt with, “A couple of years ago we took down an online network of hitmen. One of them was a black-widow who double-crossed the male clients who hired her to take out their wives. I went in as a mark and she made me. It’s a long story, but we were in a public place and she knew even if she shot me there was no way out so she suggested a game and I won.”

“Are you saying you talked your way out of a situation where a known killer had you at gunpoint?” Jude questioned. Spencer could hear the note of disbelief.

“I profiled her and in order to walk her out of there without a single person getting hurt I had to reveal something personal. I told her about my mom and her dementia and then I used what I knew about her to lie and convince her to put her gun down,” Spencer explained. “From jail she managed to find a partner. Together they got their revenge by framing me for murder and abducting my mother.”

“Wait, you what? Does your Dad know about this?” Jude questioned. His voice was sharp and pitched higher as he reacted to the story.

“He only knows the basics. I told him I spent nearly six months in jail and that my Mom was kidnapped. Thankfully, my team was able to clear my name and save her, but we’ve lost before and it could happen again. I’ve never been close to my Dad so I didn’t worry he might be a target, but that could change.” Spencer paused for emphasis.  “Next time it could be you or Gideon or my Dad. You should know the risks before you invite me into your lives.”

Jude was silent for a moment, “I don’t know what to say.”

“Think about it,” Spencer told him. “Tell Gideon if you want. You said you would do anything for him so if that means you feel you need to keep me away, then do it.”

Spencer heard back from Jude and Gideon the next day. They were concerned about the danger, but they still wanted to meet him and they would depend on him to tell them when and if they ever needed to take precautions. Spencer wasn’t sure if they had shared this conversation with his Dad, but if they agreed with his opinion that he should leave the FBI he would find out soon enough.

 

Two days later they hadn’t made much progress in the case. The other four victims had been identified and so far the only link that existed was that all of them had been provided with in-home hospice care for a dying parent. Victim number four, David Emry, cared for his 75-year-old father who finally succumbed to the final stages of Alzheimer’s seven months ago. Two weeks later, David went missing.

“I’m SSA Jennifer Jareau with the FBI and this is Dr. Spencer Reid. Can we speak with someone familiar with a former home-care patient, Thomas Emry and his son, David? Thomas Emry passed away several months ago,” JJ said to one of the women at the counter. They were visiting the hospice care facility that had helped David organize in-home nursing for his father.

The woman, Helen, left to get the home-care coordinator. While they waited, Spencer observed as another man spoke with the other woman behind the counter. He was in his early forties and held out a clipboard so the woman could check the information against what appeared to be an order for medical supplies. They were still matching up the quantities when Susan Stoneman came up to the desk to speak with them.

“I was told you had questions about one of our former clients. If you would like to follow me back, we can speak confidentially,” she said. 

In the end, Susan Stoneman wasn’t able to provide much in the way of help. She searched their system for the names of the other victims and their family members, but only Thomas Emry had received care from their hospice center. She did provide them with a list of nurses and care professionals that they knew had either directly worked with the Emrys or who had been a referral.

They returned to the Buffalo PD to see if any of their other team members had any luck. “There is no overlap in all five victims. All of them had groceries delivered and house cleaning services, but they used different companies. I also did a crosscheck of the employees, but nada. Only two shared a doctor and two others used the same hospice facility for their dying parent. All those connections seem to checkout. You have to give me more to go on, crime fighters,” Garcia reported through the conference phone.

“Were any of them part of a support group?” Emily asked.

“David Emry was part of a group for caregivers of Alzheimer’s patients. Stephanie Marshall joined a grief support group after her mother passed, but she only attended one meeting before her abduction,” Garcia answered.

“It’s obvious that somehow this unsub has enough access to observe basic routines and get close enough to subdue his target without raising alarm. We must be missing something,” Dave commented as he looked at the board with the five victims.

“Oh, wait. This just in,” Garcia cut in. “We have the toxicology report of the first victim, Melanie Holt. They found propofol in her system, but none was every found in any of the other victims”

“Propofol is often used as an anesthetic. It produces decreased levels of consciousness and can impair memory. If not used correctly, it can cause propofol infusion syndrome, which can result in cardiac arrest and death. It does metabolize quickly so he may have still used it on his other victims,” Spencer summarized.

“If the unsub didn’t know how to properly administer the drug, that could explain the compression fractures on Melanie Holt’s ribs. He may have tried to revive her,” Luke added.

Dave nodded, “She was the only one who wasn’t strangled because he wasn’t able to live out his fantasy with her. He was smarter the next time.”

“That means we are looking for someone more on the periphery of the medical profession. Likely not a nurse or a doctor. How easy is it to get ahold of propofol?” Matt asked.

Spencer answered, “Propofol isn’t a controlled substance, though it is abused recreationally especially by medical professionals so some hospitals have developed protocols for access. It is a risky way of subduing a victim since you would have to be close enough to inject them.”

JJ nodded, “There has to be a connection. These victims are allowing this man into their homes when they are alone and he doesn’t stand out or the neighbors would have noticed something.”

The group broke up to continue combing the files for clues and Dave and Luke left to grab dinner for the team. Spencer started reviewing the notes from the canvas of the first victim’s neighborhood. The officers hadn’t known what they were dealing with at that point, but if the unsub had made a mistake with the drug, he might have miss-stepped elsewhere.

“So are you going to continue with your training in Los Angles?” Matt asked.

After his struggle to defend himself in prison Spencer had become more conscious of his lack of self-defense training. He initially approaching Luke for help, but he suggested Matt as the better instructor. Simmons was well versed in a variety of hand to hand and martial arts styles and suggested Krav Maga as the most effective method to start. Spencer found it oddly fun and he enjoyed getting to know the team’s newest agents. He, Matt, and Luke now met when they had time to train and the two other agents were nice enough to keep it quiet from the rest of the team. They worried about him enough without pondering over his sudden desire to learn self-defense.

“There are a couple of Krav Maga self-defense schools in the area. I thought I might try one of those,” Spencer replied. His lack of skill made the anonymity of practicing at a public studio instead of the FBI more appealing.

Matt smiled, “You can come back and surprise us with your new moves.”

“That will be the day.”

“No, you have the focus for it. You just need to gain more confidence,” Matt assured him. “Any other plans while you’re out there? Basketball season doesn't start again until October.”

Spencer had been waiting for Luke and Matt to meet him for training last week when he saw a magazine with a story about the L.A. Devils and their star player, Zero. The other agents found him staring at the article and looking for any obvious physical similarity to show they were actually related. He didn’t see it. It led to a conversation about basketball and Spencer had thankfully been able to rattle off game statistics to steer the conversation away from his preoccupation with the man in the photo.

“My Dad’s coming up to Los Angeles at some point so we’ll spend time together. You know, family stuff,” Spencer tried for some honesty.

“Well, let’s see if we can solve this case and get you out of here on time,” Matt replied and squeezed his shoulder as he walked away.

Spencer looked back down at the file. Two pages into the interview notes from the canvas it jumped out at him. Melanie Holt’s neighbor reported she hadn’t seen anything suspicious the day of the disappearance. She said Melanie must have been home and OK until at least 2:30 that afternoon because she saw the truck stop by with the usual delivery of oxygen for her mother. Only, Spencer realized, Melanie’s mother had died the month before.

Spencer grabbed his phone. “Garcia,” he said when she answered. “Can you look into who delivered medical supplies to each of the victims?”

“Suppliers of home medical equipment are approved and paid for through insurance providers. I’ll need to do some digging. I’ll hit you back,” she said over the clang of her keyboard.

JJ came into the room, “I just got a call from Susan Stoneman. She said she found something she thinks I should see. She sounded upset.”

Spencer gave Emily an update regarding what he found in the witness statements before he and JJ headed out. Stoneman had asked them to meet her at her home to talk privatly.

“Henry is excited to perform that levitating card trick you showed him for his grandma the next time we skype. He’s going to miss you while you’re in California,” JJ said from the passenger seat.

“I’m going to miss him too,” Spencer replied. His godsons Henry and Michael were as close as he would probably ever get to children of his own.

They chatted a bit more on the drive about how Henry was doing in school and Michael’s new favorite bedtime story, but they both went quiet when they pulled up at the address Susan Stoneman had given them. Something was wrong. The house was situated near the edge of new construction and the nearby houses were not yet complete. They could see the front door was ajar from the street.

Spencer called Emily for backup while JJ grabbed their vests from the back and tried to call Stoneman. “There’s no answer,” she reported.

“We can’t wait,” Spencer told Emily. “She could be in trouble in there.”

“We’re on our way,” Emily responded.

Spencer almost suggested that one of them take the back, but it reminded him of another time when they were on their own against a suspect. That hadn’t ended well. Instead, they went to the front, flanking the front door. JJ pushed it open with a hand and Spencer quietly went first, gun drawn. Together they cleared the foyer and the front sitting room before splitting up to cover the other rooms. Spencer took the hallway leading to the bedrooms, while JJ took the dining room leading into the kitchen.

Spencer cleared two bedrooms when he heard the slam of a door and a muffled yell from the other side of the house. “JJ!” he called, before giving one final look to the unchecked last bedroom and running toward the noise.

Just off the kitchen was another room with a door, shut and locked. He could hear the struggle and a grunt of pain from JJ. The door was aluminium. It would be more dangerous to try and shoot the lock so he would have to hope the jam wasn’t reinforced. He gave it a kick and it started to give. He hit it twice more with his left shoulder before he heard the splintering of wood and the door flew open.

JJ was struggling with a large man in a ski mask in a small room with a washer and dryer. Blood trickled down her face from a wound at her temple, making it hard for her to see with it running into her eyes. Thankfully no one else was in the room, but there was no way to shoot at the assailant without potential hitting his friend.

Spencer holstered his weapon and moved in to tackle the man, momentarily throwing him off balance enough for JJ to break free. He could see that she was unsteady from the head wound and her weapon was missing, lost in the struggle. “JJ, go!” he told her even as the man regained he feet and came at him.

Spencer felt hands come around his throat even as he repeated, “Go!” when JJ hesitated. He and Matt had practiced front choke holds, but he was still surprised when it worked. He went for the weakest part his attacker’s hold, his hands, breaking the grip even as he kicked out, missing the man’s groin but catching his inner thigh. Spencer fell back as he was released, winded.

“Mother fucker!” the man yelled. Spencer pulled himself up, grabbing for his holstered weapon, but a vicious kick just below his bad knee staggered him and his gun skittered across the floor. He slammed the heel of his hand into the man’s nose. The cry he let out bought Spencer a second to turn, ready to make a break for the door, but the man grabbed his ankle and he fell flat on his belly. On the floor in front of him he saw a syringe. The man must have been waiting for JJ to come through the door, but her own training allowed her to react quickly enough to block him. Spencer reached for the syringe now as a potential weapon even as he kicked at the hand holding him back.  

Suddenly, he was free and in one quick movement he grabbed the syringe and rolled to face his attacker only to feel the bite of electricity as taser darts hit him in the hip and thigh. Spencer felt himself convulse and the syringe slip from his fingers as he lost control of his body.

Even when the convulsions stopped, the pain remained. His vision was hazy as he saw a shadow bend over him. The last thing he felt was the pin prick of a needle in his arm.  

 

*   *   *

Jude stood in William Reid’s kitchen and frowned at his phone. Gideon’s father had reported that Spencer might be a day late flying in, but his flight from D.C. was supposed to leave in only an hour and they still hadn’t received an update.

“Maybe he’s wrapped up in the case,” Jude offered to the two other men, but he didn’t really believe it. Despite hating to text, Spencer always replied to Jude’s messages even if it was just to say he couldn’t talk. Not hearing from him now was concerning.

William seemed particularly on edge. He was now comfortable enough with Jude and Gideon to open up about his concerns regarding Spencer’s job at the FBI. The revelation about the true dangers of working in the BAU rattled him. Jude knew there were things that Spencer hadn't told his father. There were things that he hadn’t shared with him and Gideon either. The two of them discussed how Spencer’s being framed for murder was likely only the tip of the iceberg and how that contributed to his inability to talk to his father.

“I know what it’s like to close yourself off because it seems like all your choices are about surviving. Its why it took me so long to admit how I felt about you,” Gideon had told him. “It wasn’t life or death like in the FBI, but it was about making it in the world we live in and protecting myself.”

“What finally changed your mind?” Jude asked.

Gideon looked thoughtful, “I realized that not taking that risk wasn’t worth it if it meant losing you. Surviving isn’t really living.”  

For some reason Spencer was more comfortable sharing things with Jude. Gideon found it difficult to talk to his brother, but he didn’t seem to mind their closeness. It was a new feeling to have someone like Spencer in his life. Other than Lionel and Gideon, he was the only real friend he had.

William was preparing breakfast for them as they waited for word on whether they would need to head to the airport in a few hours. He stopped in his preparation when his phone rang. Gideon made like he was going to throw a diced tomato at Jude, but fed it to him with a smile instead.

“Oh, god!” William said, dropping his phone.

Gideon crossed the room in two quick strides and placed a hand on his father’s back. William had gone white and a hand was on his chest. He looked dazed and Jude started to reach for his own phone to call 911 when the older man pointed to the phone on the floor and said, “Spencer!”

Jude bent to retrieve the phone. He could hear someone talking on the line, but couldn’t make out the words. He turned it on speaker.

“Hello! William, can you hear me?” came the voice.

“Who is this?” Gideon demanded. “Is this about Spencer?”

William was still pale, but he looked to be recovering.

“This is Supervisory Special Agent David Rossi with the FBI. I called to speak with William Reid. Who am I speaking with?”

Gideon and Jude shared a look. “This is Gideon. I’m William Reid’s son and Spencer’s brother.”

There was a pause, “I wasn’t aware Spencer had a brother.”

“It’s kind of new for us both,” Gideon replied in exasperation. “What the hell is going on? Where is Spencer?”

David Rossi’s tone was measured as he spoke. “Yesterday evening, while going to interview a witness he and another member of our team were attacked. Spencer is missing.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I beg forgiveness if I have misrepresented the properties of propofol, botched the description of a Krav Maga defensive technique, or included any other inaccuracies.
> 
> Research  
> \- Propofol:  
> https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Propofol
> 
> -Crossover Sexual Offenders:  
> An Exploration of Crossover Sexual Offending  
> Holly Kleban, Megan S. Chesin, Elizabeth L. Jeglic, Cynthia Calkins Mercado  
> Sexual Abuse  
> Vol 25, Issue 5, pp. 427 - 443  
> First Published November 9, 2012  
> http://journals.sagepub.com/doi/abs/10.1177/1079063212464397?journalCode=saxb#articleCitationDownloadContainer


	8. Spencer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You don't drown by falling in the water; you drown by staying there.”  
> ― Edwin Louis Cole

Spencer could hear a woman screaming on the television. He had a bad habit of falling asleep with it on when they were traveling on a case. He was just glad the horror movie that came on after he drifted off hadn’t inspired any nightmares.

The bed was uncomfortable and he must have slept wrong because his shoulder hurt. Or maybe that was from when he rammed in the door. Wait. When did that happen? Someone had been in trouble…

He tried to move to ease his shoulder and that’s when he realized his arms were secured over his head. The sound of metal on metal came as he jerked at the realization.

“I know you’re awake,” came a male voice in a sing-song tone.

It didn’t all come rushing back, but Spencer was grateful he had enough wits about him to keep a straight face as he opened his eyes. The lighting was dim so it took him a moment to make out the features of the room. He forced himself not to search the darkness in panic for the source of the voice.

He was laying shirtless, hands and ankles bound on a mattress on the floor. He was in a basement. How had he not noticed? The smell of mildew and damp earth mingled with the scent of burning wood from the cast iron pot belly stove just a few feet away, it’s stack disappearing into the low ceiling. In the faint firelight he made out the crumbling brick of a nearby wall. The surface showed signs of efflorescence, a white and powdery residue left over from salts when the penetrating ground water evaporated.

He let his eyes move to the source of the screaming. A heavy, old model television was perched on a rickety dresser and was angled to face him. This was no cheesy horror flick. Spencer was certain he was watching the final, hellish days of Stephanie Marshall’s life. The woman was bound on this same mattress, in this same basement, naked. She screamed as a male figure penetrated her with some object.

“I like to show my guests what they have to look forward to,” the voice came again. Spencer let his eyes sweep over the dark recess of the room. He could vaguely make out the shape of a staircase in the back of the basement, but closer…there. As he focused he made out the shape of a camera on a tripod and the silhouette of the man standing next to it.

“Thought I guess I should show you David’s tape. That would reassure you that I don’t discriminate, but I was really hoping that blond bitch would be my guest for tonight so I wasn’t prepared.” The man finally moved forward into the flickering light, “Though I bet a man like you can use your imagination. Right, Dr. Spencer Reid?”

Spencer recognized him. He was the man delivering supplies to the Hospice where Susan Stoneman worked. He must have overheard them asking about David Emry, but what had he done to Stoneman?

“Don’t have anything to say?” The man taunted. “You were the quiet one, letting that blond take the lead. I was so excited to get to break an FBI agent and you did put up a good fight. Come on, don’t disappoint me by being shy now.”

He met the man’s gaze and noted with some satisfaction the swollen nose. Spencer tried to catalog what he knew from the profile. The man was in his mid-thirties to forties, educated, and likely had a wife and children. He planned carefully and though he had participated in other more minor offenses as he worked his way up to full on rape and murder, he had never been caught and charged. This made him over-confident so the longer he continued the greater the likelihood he would make a mistake.

He was also a sexual sadist, so he got his pleasure from acting out fantasies where he inflicted physical and psychological torture on his victims. Spencer’s best chance at survival was not to give him the satisfaction of seeing his fear and pain, though that would definitely prolong his suffering.

The man moved to the pot belly stove. He grabbed a rag from the ground and used it to protect his hand as he removed a short fire poker from the flames.

“I think we have just enough time tonight for an ice breaker,” the man said as he crossed the short space to where Spencer lay. He knelt on the mattress and held the poker inches from Spencer’s eye. He could feel the heat radiate from the metal, but he didn’t look at the poker. He made himself look at the man.

Spencer remembered a conversation with Garcia years ago. They’d talked about how their former Unit Chief, Aaron Hotchner, had probably never blinked when he was attacked by George Foyet, the Boston Reaper, and that was probably why Foyet let him live. When Garcia asked him if he thought Hotch would be alright Spencer answered, “I wouldn’t be, but I’m a blinker.”

“You are a pretty boy,” the man finally said and smiled. His free hand stroked Spencer’s face, his thumb tugged at his bottom lip in an imitation of a lover’s caress. “You’re right. It’s too soon to scar that pretty face. Where should we start?”

The man’s hand trailed down Spencer’s chest, but his eyes stayed on his prey’s face as he watched for a reaction. Suddenly, he grabbed Spencer’s crotch through his pants and squeezed.

Spencer jumped, but managed to clench his jaw against the yelp as his most delicate parts were squeezed like a vice. His skin pricked with sweat as he held his flight or fight response in check. Finally, the hand released him. There was nothing Spencer could do to hide his ragged breathing.

The man laughed, “I do like a challenge.  Don’t worry. There’s still plenty of time for me to make you scream.”

With that, he brought the poker down to Spencer’s chest, pressing it firmly against his nipple. This time, he couldn’t stop the keening noise that came from deep in his throat. When the poker was finally removed the deep burning pain continued.

Spencer’s eyes had begun to water, but he blinked the moisture away quickly.

“That’s all we have time for tonight. I told the wife I would be late, but I can’t keep her waiting,” he said as he adjusted himself in his pants, “I’ll be thinking of you.”

Spencer had just enough time to prepare himself as the man reached down and fondled his burned chest, sending a fresh wave of pain radiating from the spot, “You’ll be thinking of me too,” he said.

Before leaving the man closed the door of the pot belly stove so the only real light in the room came from the film looping on the television as Stephanie Marshall was violated over and over. Spencer heard the creak of the rickety stairs under each of the man’s steps before the squeak of rusty hinges and the thud of a heavy door.

The man was right. The stinging and throbbing of the burn would keep him up all night, but there was something the man didn’t know. He had given his team the lead on home medical delivery before he and JJ left to meet with Susan Stoneman. They would figure out the identity of their unsub and they would find him. Eventually.

Since the man had gotten away with the rape, torture, and murder of at least five people, they knew he had a secluded location. It had to be remote enough so neighbors wouldn’t ask questions and visitors would be unlikely.  However, it also had to be close enough to town to allow for him to make frequent trips without his absence being noticed. If he was smart, and Spencer knew he was, this house wasn’t tied to him directly. His team would figure out who their unsub was, but finding this location would take longer.

Spencer turned his attention to his restraints. They were handcuffs and not his own. They encircled both wrists and were permanently attached to the brick wall by a metal anchor. He reached back and down between the wall and the mattress as far as he could, looking for something he could use to pick the lock. All he felt was the dirt of the earthen floor of the basement. 

He closed his eyes in frustration. What time was it? It had been 7:00 in the evening when he and JJ left to meet Susan Stoneman, wherever she was now. Dead? Somewhere else in this house? It was July so it didn’t get dark until 10pm, but that didn’t help him if he couldn’t see outside.

If he and JJ had both made it back from that errand, he would have needed to call his Dad to let him know he was postponing his flight. The team all knew he was flying out to Vegas first to visit his Dad before his teaching assignment started and that his flight was supposed to leave tomorrow. Spencer wondered if they had called his dad yet. It would be William Reid’s fears come to life. He would regret not trying to talk some sense into his son sooner about his job; regret he hadn’t tried earlier to mend the rift between them. Would Gideon and Jude be there when someone made the call? Would it be Emily? JJ? Maybe Rossi since he had met his Dad once.

Was it better or worse that he had never met Gideon and Jude in person? Cumulatively, they had spent hours now on the phone talking. Jude preferred to text and Spencer went along. How did you quantify time spent communicating via text? But then, he felt closer to Jude so maybe it wasn’t the quantity, so much as the quality of the communication. Spencer should know. He had only met Maeve in person that one time on the day she died. Through their phone conversations and letters he had never felt closer to another human being. When she died, it was the most profound pain he had ever experienced.

Then there was his mother. Spencer felt his eyes burn as he thought of her never really understanding where he had gone. Eventually she would forget him altogether as her dementia continued to take her memories and then her life. 

Spencer stared into the dark recess of the ceiling. He regretted leaving his mother to forget him. Regretted making his father’s fears come true. Regretted never meeting Gideon and Jude. Regretted never trying to love again after Maeve.

He mentally shook himself. He had to pull it together or this was how the man would break him. Spencer forced himself to think and to examine his surroundings for a way out.

He used his fingers to explore how the cuffs were anchored to the wall and felt a U pin protruding from the mortar between two bricks. His fingers were coated with the dust of the crumbling masonry, but the steel pin felt newer and less rusty than he would expect if it had been there for more than a few years. It was probably added by the unsub for his purposes.

Spencer thought back to the flickering firelight and the efflorescence of the brick. Most modern basements were either poured concrete or cinderblock so this house was built prior to the 1930s. Red fired brick during that time was generally softer than modern brick.

He let his fingers follow the mortar joints. Yes, this part of the wall showed evidence of tuckpointing, where old cracking mortar is removed and replaced with new. Only, the mason in this case had not used the correct material for historic brick. The mortar was too hard and forced the bricks around it to absorb too much moisture, making them even more likely to crumble. He just hoped the man had gotten sloppy and not reinforced the U pin with epoxy.

He tugged experimentally at the piece of metal, but it held. He ran his fingers back over the brick and mortar again, feeling the chalky texture where the bricks above and below the pin flaked.  He tried to pick at the brick with his fingernails, but he just felt the pain as they tore. Not that soft then. Spencer angled his wrist so the edge of the handcuff dug into the brick just above the mortar joint and applied some force and friction. After a few minutes he took a break. He felt the wall for evidence of his progress and was pleased to feel the powdery residue and a score in the brick from the edge of the cuffs. It wasn’t much, but it was the best chance he had.

As time passed, Spencer felt the sting of sweat where he was rubbing his wrists raw against the cuffs and where the burn still ached on his chest. He periodically took breaks to rest, wishing he could change the position of his arms when muscle spasms racked his shoulders and neck. He focused his efforts on the areas just above and below where the pin was imbedded in the mortar.  If he could get a little play, he could try to move the pin, hopefully enough to crack the mortar holding it in place and pull it free.  

Spencer noted that the room seemed lighter somehow as he again gripped the pin. He felt the pinch of grit being ground into his fingertips, but held tight and jerked the pin up and then down. Then left and right. There. Just a little movement, but it was something.

He scooted closer to the wall, feeling the bindings on his ankles pull tight. He hooked his finger through the loop of the pin and tried to pull upward. There was a slight cracking and a little give. He gave a shaky breath as he rested and let feeling return to his finger. Pushing down was harder than up since he had no leverage, but he tried anyway, with less success.

Spencer had spent several minutes alternating these tactics, feeling a little more give each time, when he heard a thud overhead. The door at the top of the stairs opened violently, a lightbulb switched on in the center of the room for the first time blinded him, and footsteps raced down the stairs. A second later, a strong hand was gripping his throat and the man was staring down at him.

“You knew didn’t you, you arrogant little shit? They came this morning and told my wife! They told my work! Unfortunately, for you I got away. I had to park two miles away and walk, but I spent the entire time thinking of what I was going to do to you!” He said. Spots danced on the edges of Spencer’s vision.

Just as suddenly, the man let go and Spencer gulped in air. “Don’t worry. I still have enough time to do it right,” the man went on as he undid his belt and fly. “By the time they find this place it will be too late for you and I'll be long gone.”

There was a snick as the man unfolded a pocket knife and cut the bindings on his ankles. Weakly, Spencer kicked as the man pulled his pants and boxers down his legs, leaving him naked before flipping him onto belly. The man knelt on the backs of his legs to hold him down and then the belt was looped around his neck. It drew uncomfortably tight even as the man settled himself on top of him.

Spencer could feel the heat of the man’s aroused genitals between his legs as he held his thighs apart with his own. There had been times when Spencer thought about this act and what it might be like to be on the receiving end with a partner of his choice, but he never imagined this. The belt around his neck pulled tighter and he arched his spine in reflex.

“Too bad it will be over so soon. You’re so pretty like this,” the man cooed. Spencer felt the erect penis rub between his cheeks and a hand moved between them as the man positioned himself. The belt slacked for just a moment. Spencer was a man of science, but if there was a higher power he begged them for strength as he used that moment and his slightly better leverage to press down on the pin one more time.

There was a crack as the brick under the pin gave and then the pin came loose with a chunk of mortar and red dust. He felt the moment the man realized something was wrong and as he shifted his weight, Spencer reared back and thrust the dull points of the U pin at him. It was a weak effort, but it sent the man sprawling, giving him just enough time to pull the belt from his neck with weak arms and stagger to his feet.

The man roared and charged at him, crowding Spencer toward the pot belly stove. Spencer tripped on the edge of the mattress and went down hard. He tried to stop his fall with his still cuffed left hand and felt a sickening pop in his left shoulder from catching his weight at that awkward angle.

The man growled above him, “Oh, the things I’m going to do to you!” In the haze of pain, Spencer felt himself flipped onto his back as the man settled between his legs and he heard the familiar snick of the knife as it came open.

His left arm felt pretty useless, but he grasped at the man’s forearm as the knife came down. He was too weak, adrenaline the only thing giving him enough strength to keep the blade an inch from his flesh. He had to think. Matt was always talking about redirecting the force of your opponent’s attack.

It wasn’t an ideal position, but he clamped his legs around his attacker and rolled left so he could take advantage of his stronger right arm. The man came unbalanced and the force of the knife followed, but the handcuffs didn’t allow him to complete the motion and the knife carve a line of fire down the left side of his belly down to his hip.

How much longer could he keep this up? He wasn’t ready to fend off another attack, so he scrambled for anything he could grab, but there was only a fire extinguisher just out of reach and a pile of ashes from the stove. He grabbed a handful as the man came at him again, rubbing them in his face and eyes even as the knife sliced into his left arm.

“Fuck!” the man said, staggering back and dropping the knife, wet with Spencer’s blood. Spencer grabbed it and took stock of the room, but the man still stood between him and the stairs. He was wiping at his face and eyes as he staggered back toward the dresser and TV.

“This ends now!” the man commanded. Spencer saw a flash of his FBI vest and he suddenly knew what the man was after. His gun.

His team would not find him after eating a bullet from his own gun. The knife wasn’t going to offer any defense against a revolver so he dropped it and grabbed for the fire extinguisher instead. It was only a small one, like you are supposed to keep in your kitchen, but it would be enough as long as it was fully pressurized. The man was just raising the gun when Spencer pulled the pin, aimed the hose and compressed the trigger. A cloud of fire retardant chemical hit the man in the face.

The revolver discharged as the man reflexively squeezed the trigger, but the bullet went high and into the brick wall. The man coughed as he breathed in the chemical, but as far as Spencer could tell in the hazy room he still had the gun. He climbed to his feet and sent more of the chemical at the man before throwing the entire extinguisher at him.

The red cylinder hit the man on the side of the head, but not with enough force to really take him down. He staggered, finally releasing the gun as he coughed and gasped for oxygen. Spencer was coughing too since they were in an enclosed space, but this wasn’t over.

With the man off balance, Spencer used his last bit of energy to pounce on his back and loop his right elbow around the man’s throat. Spencer squeezed.

Strong hands came up and tore at him, trying to find purchase, scratching and clawing.  The man swung his weight against the brick wall and Spencer grunted at the impact as his head made contact and his ears rang. Several weaker strikes followed, the brick acted like rough grit sandpaper against his naked skin. When would this be over?

At last the man fell to his knees and after what felt like minutes, but was really only seconds more he slumped forward, taking Spencer with him. Could he be faking? Spencer held his grip and made himself count to five just to be sure then he slowly let go.

He was shaking too hard to check for a pulse. He wanted to run for the stairs, but he hadn’t gotten this far by acting on impulse. Coughing from the chemical still in the air, he made himself collect the gun and the knife before putting on his pants, wincing as his waistband settled over the bleeding cut in his torso.

Spencer approached the stairs cautiously, gun drawn for all the good it would do since he couldn’t aim it, and made his way up. At the top, he eased open the heavy door into a dilapidated kitchen that hadn’t been remodeled since the 50s. Empty.

The door had a deadbolt and Spencer secured it before considering the rest of the house. He was bleeding and the shock was starting to take over. He looked out the window and saw only trees surrounding an open meadow. The man said he had walked and even if he hadn’t, Spencer wasn’t going back downstairs to search him for keys. His best bet was to look for a phone in the house and then find a place he could wait with decent cover and his gun at the ready.

Hanging on the wall next to a green refrigerator was a matching phone with a rotary dial. Spencer picked up the receiver and nearly cried when he heard the tone. He dialed.

“Hello,” Penelope Garcia asked hesitantly as she answered the call from the unfamiliar number.

“Please come get me,” Spencer barely recognized his voice as he begged her.

“Oh my god! Spencer?! Where are you?”

Tears rolled down his face and he felt weak as the rush of adrenaline finally started to receed, “I don’t know. Can you find me?”

“Yes! Yes!” She said as if the idea had only just occurred to here. “We were so worried. I’m tracking the call now and…Alvez and Simmons are closest. I’m sending them your location.”

“Thank you,” Spencer said and slid down the side of the refrigerator to sit on the floor, the cord of the phone pulling taunt.

“Are you…are you safe? Are you hurt?” Garcia sounded like she was crying now too.

Spencer glanced around the room. “I think I’m safe now. He’s in the basement.” He suddenly noticed the blood on his hands and he said so. “There’s blood. I’m bleeding. I really thought this was it.”

“I already requested an ambulance. Stay with me, Spencer.”

“I’m so sorry. I have to tell my dad and Gideon and Jude that I’m sorry,” Spencer rambled as he sat and shook on the floor.

“Gideon?” Garcia asked, but she didn’t wait for an answer. “Stay with me! Is there anything you can use to stop the bleeding?”

Yeah, that was probably a good idea. He looked around and saw a decorative hand towel hanging from the handle of the refrigerator. He chuckled. How quant for such a house of horrors.

“Reid?” Garcia asked and Spencer knew he was losing it. He couldn’t hold the hand towel to his abdomen and arm at the same time. At least not while holding the phone with his cuffed hands. And then what about his gun?

“I’m OK,” he tried for calm instead of punchy. He spotted an earring on the floor near his feet. He recognized it from a photo of Stephanie Marshall. He put the gun down, picked it up and fumbled with unsteady hands for the lock of his cuffs. The one on his left wrist came open and at that point he gave up. His left shoulder hurt too badly to free his right hand so he just let the other cuff dangle.

He positioned the towel over his abdominal wound and then his cut left arm over it.  He held the phone between his right shoulder and ear and examined where is left clavicle met his shoulder. Yeah, he could feel the partial separation of the acromioclavicular joint, but nothing was broken.

He took a shaky breath. “I’m OK,” he repeated mainly to himself.

“We were so scared for you,” Garcia cried through the phone in answer. He knew she had been holding herself back to be strong for him, but she couldn’t anymore.

Spencer said again, “I’m OK.” This time he did it to reassure and sooth his friend.

“We just got you back, Boy Wonder.  You aren’t allowed to leave us,” she reasoned as she cried.

He was so happy to hear her voice and he was crying again too. “I’m not going anywhere,” he said for both of them. Then he heard the sirens. “They’re almost here.”

Garcia stayed with him on the phone until he heard the front door being kicked open.

“Reid!?” Luke Alves called.

“I’m in the kitchen,” he called back and thought of how ridiculous that sounded.

Luke swept the room before coming to kneel beside him. “Where is he?”

Spencer indicated the basement door as Simmons and two uniform police officers joined them in the kitchen. “The rest of the place is clear,” Simmons said as he and the officers moved to check the basement.

Alvez stayed with him. Spencer could see he wanted to ask if he was OK, wanted to comfort him even, but that was a loaded question and potentially a bad move given the unsub who had abducted him.

Spencer met his eye. “He didn’t. He tried, but...,” Spencer trailed off shaking his head.

“You did good,” Matt said. He had come back up the stairs and heard him.

“Is he…?” Spencer seemed incapable of forming complete sentences.

“You did good,” Matt repeated.

Matt and Luke flanked him and eased him up from the floor after making sure it would be OK to move him. They supported him as they led him out the front of the house. More sirens could be heard in the distance.

“Is JJ OK?” he asked.

Luke answered, “She has a concussion, but she’s going to be fine. She’s just worried about you.”

“Don’t let her see me like this?” Spencer asked, suddenly feeling fragile. He couldn’t face them like this. He couldn’t stand seeing the worry on their faces. “Don’t let the others see me like this?”

Luke and Matt shared a look. “We got you,” Matt said and led him toward the EMS pulling into the dirt driveway.


	9. Jude & Spencer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “A trauma doesn't stop just because you've been rescued.”  
> ― Dot Hutchison

Jude went outside to get a break from the tension in the house even if it meant stepping into the hot, dry Las Vegas air. During the nearly two hours since the call with David Rossi, Gideon had been pacing the house. He needed a physical release, like breaking something, that he wouldn’t allow himself in his father’s home. William abandoned breakfast, not that any of them could eat, to alternate between silent prayer and running his hands over the scrapbook he kept on Spencer. Jude cleaned up their aborted meal, but finally ran out of things to straighten up. All the while they agonized over that phone call.

“I should have done something. I should have talked some sense into him when he told me about the prison and about Diana,” William Reid had cut in over the sound of Agent Rossi on the phone.

The FBI agent raised his voice, “William, there is nothing you could have done. Spencer is his own man and he makes his own choices.”

Jude watched as William struggled to compose himself. “Why did it have to be him? Hasn’t he been through enough?”

“It was Spencer because when he saw his team member and best friend injured and facing a threat he did everything he could so she might survive. And because it was Spencer, I’m not giving up on him and neither should you,” Agent Rossi spoke with conviction.

Jude looked at Gideon who was pale and gripping the counter. “He’s right,” Jude said thinking of that early conversation when Spencer said to keep him away from Gideon if Jude felt it was too dangerous. There was a strength in Spencer that for whatever reason William couldn’t see and Gideon had yet to discover. “Until there is proof otherwise, we shouldn’t give up on him.”

Gideon met his eye. Jude could see he trusted his words even if he had yet to forge that same connection with his brother. God help him if he was wrong. “You said you had a suspect?” Gideon asked.

Agent Rossi became all business. “We identified the man we believe is responsible for taking Reid. We profiled him as very organized, but also overconfident. Our plan this morning was to apprehend him when his guard was down and then to use his arrogance to get him to reveal where he takes his victims.”

Jude saw William wince at the term ‘victims’, but Gideon asked, “What went wrong?”

Rossi hesitated, “It isn’t like the movies. Sometimes it’s just bad timing. He made us on our approach and managed to get away. We do know what he is driving, the general area where he is likely to be, and we are combing all of his records and those of the people connected to him for a lead on where he would go.”

After another couple of minutes of conversation where Rossi talked William out of flying to Buffalo and promised he would call as soon as he heard anything, they disconnected.

Was Jude right in trying to convince Gideon and William to hope? Where did this idea that he knew Spencer and his capabilities so well come from? Even if he was right, Spencer still wasn’t superman. He could still bleed. Jude could still lose this person he only knew over the phone, but who was inexplicably important to him.

Jude almost jumped when his cellphone rang. He considered not answering, but it was Lionel. She would just call back.

“Yeah?” he said into the phone.

“Well, aren’t we having a good time! Already in trouble with the in-laws?” Lionel quipped. “Or did Gideon kick you out of bed when you told him about Christian Giordano?”

Lionel know about Gideon’s father, but very little about Spencer. Here she was though, his former step-mother and confidant. “It’s complicated,” he said, feeling about ready to burst now that he had a potential outlet.

She must not have heard the waver in his voice as she got down to business. “Jude you really need to tell him. Even if we don’t announce that we are signing a contract with Giordano it will get out and we need to control the media on this.”

After spending the past months playing referee between Jelena and Lionel, it came as a shock when the two former adversaries bonded over a course of action. Lionel had suggested that since they couldn’t outrun the bad press, they should instead change the narrative. What better way than by inviting a little drama onto the court for the next season?

By doing an off season trade they could use the anticipation to pull in endorsements. The speculation that Giordano’s punch kept Ohio from winning that game and possibly going to the playoffs didn’t hurt since it put him at a disadvantage in terms of contract negotiations. Pete was also on board because Giordano was an excellent player. Jude, on the other hand, had been pissed at being summarily overruled. In any case, now was not the time.

“I can’t tell him now. Things just aren’t…,” he didn’t know what to say.

Suddenly, Lionel his defender was back on the phone. “What’s going on, Jude? Did you have a fight?”

In broken sentences he told her. He felt both relief in the telling and like shit because Gideon was still inside losing his mind.

 “Oh my god! This is about what was on the news!” She said.

“What?”

“It was on the national news maybe an hour ago,” she explained. “There’s a manhunt for a suspect in the kidnap, rape, and torture of five people.”

Jude looked through the window of the backdoor. He could see the television on in the living room and both William and Gideon’s faces were focused on the screen.

“Shit! I have to go,” he said abruptly and he hung up as he came back into the house.

Sure enough, there was a national news spotlight on the local station and the reporter was giving details on a serial killer in Buffalo, New York. “Authorities became aware of the killer when five bodies were discovered in Nature View Park. The suspect, Michael Edward Franklin, is a 41-year-old husband and father, but the FBI has evidence that suggests Franklin is responsible for the rape, torture, and murder of these five victims. When confronted, Franklin escaped in a dark blue, late-model sedan that was later found abandoned in West Amhurst. Authorities are canvasing the area. They say not to approach if you see Franklin, but to call their tip hotline.”

As the segment ended, Jude could see William’s ashen face. He looked older as he heard in a 30-second sound bite the identity and the crimes of the man who had his son. Gideon was completely still with an unreadable expression on his face. Jude took the remote and turned off the television. He didn’t know what could possibly help, but hearing more of this wasn’t it. He went to Gideon, half afraid he would be pushed away, but instead his fiancée accepted his touch without a reaction. That was almost worse.

When William’s cellphone rang, Jude was the only one to move. The other two men were like statues so Jude retrieved the phone from where it had been left in the kitchen. His heart skipped a beat when he saw the number, but he brought the phone back into the living room before answering so the others could hear.

“We’ve got him,” Agent Rossi said without preamble. 

Jude sat down hard on the couch in relief. “He’s OK?” he asked.

“He has some injuries. A member of our team is riding with him to the hospital so he can be treated. We’ll need to get his statement, but I’ll make sure to have him call you as soon as he is able,” Rossi reassured.

Finally recovering from his own wave of relief William spoke, “I can’t believe it. You really saved him.”

“No,” David Rossi’s tone was matter-of-fact, “Spencer saved himself.”

 

*    *     *

As Spencer woke, the first thing he became aware of was the dull throbbing of his injuries in time with his pulse. By the time he had arrived in the emergency room, the hormones that kept the pain at bay during his struggle with Michael Edward Franklin had receded, leaving him profoundly aware of each abused area of his body. He had refused any narcotic pain medication. It reminded him too much of being held captive by Tobias Hankel to chance a relapse for the sake of a more pain-free recovery.

Spencer was lucky. The cut on his abdomen hadn’t gone deep enough to penetrate the peritoneal cavity. He wouldn’t be lifting anything for a while, but that and the wound on his arm had been stitched up. As he had expected, he had a grade II AC joint separation on his left shoulder so he would need to keep it tapped and his arm in a sling. The burn on his chest would leave a mark, but it was bandaged with antimicrobial ointment to prevent infection.

Some of the other injuries didn’t really register until he was being treated. His neck had vivid marks from being strangled and the doctors checked to make sure there was no damage to his windpipe, his wrists were raw and slightly bloody from the handcuffs, and that hit he took to the head in that final struggle with Franklin resulted in a minor concussion and an open wound. His hair had been so matted with blood and brick dust, the nurse had needed to cut some of it away to place the stitches.

Except for a few insignificant scars, it would all heal in time. At least on the outside.

While the doctors and nurses treated and tested his injuries, Luke kept up idle conversation to take his mind off of all the poking and prodding that made him feel extremely uncomfortable. The other man was supportive, but stepped away to give him privacy when needed. Spencer was glad for this when it came time for the forensic medical exam, at least until he remembered the entire team could potentially read the report. Franklin was dead, but the paperwork still needed to be filed after all.

Spencer thought about it as the nurse took photographs of his bruises and took scrapings from under his nails. He had killed a man with his bare hands. He remembered squeezing his throat and wishing for it to be over, but the reality of what it meant didn’t compute. At least not until the nurse asked gently, “Was there sexual penetration?”

Spencer swallowed, “Just genital contact.”

As the nurse took the appropriate swabs to send to the lab, Spencer felt like he had been punched in the gut. He may not have experienced everything Franklin had in store for him, but he was a sexual assault victim.  The BAU had worked hundreds of cases with elements of sexual trauma and he had even talked with some of the survivors. Would he ever be able to work such a case again without remembering this feeling?

By the time the exam was complete he was shaking worse than before. A nurse settled him into a room for observation of his head and abdominal injuries, but he couldn’t stand to lay in the bed when he could still smell the mildew and wood smoke clinging to his skin. He needed to wash even if he couldn’t take a shower yet with his stitches and dressing.

Luke tried to coax him to rest, but Spencer was determined. Finally, the other agent helped him roll the IV stand into the bathroom and waited just outside as he tried to fumble one-handed through sponging himself clean. He was sweating from the effort when he lost it and slammed the IV pole into the sink in frustration.

“Whoa, maybe you need to rest first,” Luke said as he cracked open the door, but stayed just outside the small room.

Like him, Luke had seen cases with sexual assault, but it was different when it was someone close to you. He wanted to help, but didn’t want to say the wrong thing or touch his friend the wrong way. Right now though, Spencer was confident he could handle just about anything if it meant getting rid of that smell. It made him feel sick.

His determined grip on the wet cloth in the sink must have finally convinced Luke because he came all the way into the room and told Spencer to sit on the stool in the tiny shower. Together they managed to rinse out his hair and give him a brief scrub down without aggravating his injuries.  The smell of that basement still stuck in Spencer’s nose, but once he was clean it faded somewhat and the extra effort meant he passed out almost the moment he finally climbed into the hospital bed.

“Spence?” a soft voice said, and Spencer felt a touch on his good right hand. He opened his eyes and saw JJ sitting at his bedside, her eyes red-rimmed and tired, her hair pulled back in a ponytail to allow for the bandage on her right temple.

“Hey,” he tried to reply, but his voice wasn’t much more than a whisper. His throat felt scratchy and hot.

JJ reached for a cup at the bedside, “I have some ice chips for you. They said you would have some inflammation so it will be this and jello at first.”

Spencer gratefully excepted the spoon of ice and sighed a little as the cold trickle gave him some relief. He accepted another spoonful and was happy that his voice sounded stronger when he indicated he was done and said, “Thanks.”

He didn’t expect JJ to start crying.

“I am so sorry, Spence,” JJ said as tears ran down her face. “It happened again and it was all my fault.”

By now Spencer had run it over in his head enough to say with certainty, “It wasn’t your fault with Hankel and it wasn’t your fault this time. You were blitz attacked, but still managed to defend yourself. If one of us is at fault it’s me.”

JJ wiped at her face and shook her head, “What are you talking about? You saved my life.”

Spencer was now the one near tears. “I’m a liability. I realized when I was in prison that when it comes to a physical attack I can’t defend myself, much less you or the rest of the team. I started training with Luke and Matt, but it wasn’t enough. If I was better, this never would have happened,” he said.

“You’ve been training with Luke and Matt?” JJ asked in surprise before going on. “No. Just no. Will came up yesterday and I made him drive me to that house when we got the call that they found you. I saw that basement. I saw your blood in that room and how hard you fought. I don’t know if I could have done that and there is no one I trust more to have my back. Do you understand me?”

They were both crying now. Spencer wasn’t convinced, but accepted her hug and held on, taking comfort in her weight against him and her familiar smell. JJ must have felt the same as she moved to sit on the bed and rested against his side for several minutes.

Finally, JJ said, “You know I would do anything for you, right?”

Spencer felt his heart swell a little. He nodded, “You too.”

He waited a beat and then tried to lighten the mood. “I was actually hoping you and Garcia could help me fix my new haircut and figure out what to do with these bruises. It’s not the look I was hoping to take to L.A.” he joked.

JJ cracked a smile and gave him an exaggerated once over, “Well, I didn’t want to kick you while you were down, but...” They laughed together in shared relief and exhaustion.

“Look at those smiling faces,” David Rossi said from the doorway holding his phone up to snap a picture, JJ’s husband Will holding a cup of coffee beside him.

Rossi came to Spencer’s other side to show them the photo. Spencer’s hair was a wild nest, but thankfully JJ’s head on his shoulder hid the bruises at his throat. They had both reacted quickly enough to give the other bunny ears, so there they were with red eyes and childish grins in the hospital bed.

“Send me a copy?” JJ requested giving Spencer a squeeze before getting up.

Will came to stand next to her and reached for Spencer’s hand, “It sure makes me feel better to know you have Jennifer's back. Thank you.”

Spencer’s eyes started to sting again, but he held it together as he accepted the handshake. They exchanged some idle conversation about the team flying home tomorrow after his release and then JJ and Will headed off to their hotel.

Rossi waited for the door to shut behind them before speaking. “So, should I send this photo on to your dad? I’m sure he and your brother would appreciate some proof that you’re really OK.”

“You called them?” It was more of a statement than a questions.

“You’re just full of surprises,” Rossi said as he nodded and took the chair next to his bed.

“I haven’t told anyone yet about Gideon and Jude,” Spencer admitted.

“Your secret is safe with me, though I’m not sure why you feel you need to hide it. You do seem to be keeping things close to the chest lately thought,” Rossi said.

Spencer knew Rossi was watching him, profiling him. It’s what he did.  “I don't want to worry everyone,” he answered, looking down at the sheets.

“You’ve been through a lot in the past months, not counting what you went through this week. I would be more worried if you weren’t taking some time to reflect on things, but you don’t need to keep us out,” Rossi spoke after a moment.

“Everyone says they’re happy to have me back, but after what happened, the things I did…I wonder how that can be true,” Spencer admitted.

“It’s true because we’re a family. We trust that you are going to have our backs just like you did for JJ. If you sense doubts in the team, I think it’s because you are second-guessing yourself and projecting that onto us,” Rossi said gently.

Spencer could see the truth in that. “I told JJ I felt like a liability to the team,” he said.

“After today, that isn’t on anyone’s mind. You really should work through your doubts though, especially before seeing your Dad.”

“Did he tell you he wants me to leave the FBI?” Spencer asked.

Rossi nodded, “When I first met William Reid he was pretty proud of you. This time he talks like it’s inevitable that you won’t survive this job.”

Spencer agreed, “I know an ultimatum is coming. I told him about prison and my mom.”

“I guess that would do it,” Rossi replied. “I don’t think he can talk you into doing something you don’t want, but it might make it difficult to convince him of your perspective if you’re still carrying around your own doubts.”

“I know. It will be even more difficult after this,” Spencer said with a nod to the hospital bed. “I’ll need to fly right to Los Angeles so that will give me some extra time.”

“Traveling is going to be uncomfortable if you insist on keeping to your teaching schedule,” Rossi said and got up from his chair. “We’re on stand-down until JJ is cleared. I was thinking about flying down to see Joy and my grandson for a long weekend. I could come with you to L.A. before going on to San Francisco?”

Rossi did love his daughter and grandson, but Spencer got the feeling the older man was making up his plans to convince him to accept the help. Spencer nodded, “Thanks, Rossi. Do you know what happened to my cellphone? I should call my Dad.”

Rossi handed Spencer his own phone. “I’m afraid your phone will need to be replaced. Take your time. I’ll go get a coffee,” he said and headed for the door.


	10. Zero|Gideon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I never lie," I said offhand. "At least not to those I don't love.”  
> ― Anne Rice, The Vampire Lestat

Zero forced himself not to pace as he waited just outside baggage claim at LAX with Jude and his Dad. Things had been tense since the three of them flew into L.A. the day before. Part of it was anticipation for Spencer’s arrival. Part was because he and Jude were fighting.

Was it fighting if Jude was a passive participant? All the aggression had been on Zero’s side until yesterday when he had just been an idiot. He was self-aware enough to know he was taking his emotions out on his fiancée, but not brave enough to do anything about it. He ran a hand over the back of sunburnt neck. At least not anything constructive.

Four days before, while stuck in William’s house waiting to hear news about Spencer, Zero had felt profoundly trapped. The past months with Jude had been so great he had asked himself why he resisted this for so long. Now here was his reminder. Having his Mom leave, all those years living with Leo and Karla, and Laura being sent to another foster home had taught him not to care; not to get close. If you don’t care, you can’t get hurt. And it was always going to hurt. Something would go wrong or someone would leave. It was just the way things worked.  

Zero spent his adult life treating relationships like business transactions: you get what you need out of the deal and then you move on. Life was about building up his brand as a baller to have enough money and power to throw in the faces of his doubters and to never be in a position to be helpless again. That changed with Jude.

Even as he tried to pretend it wasn’t happening, Jude made him care. There was no stopping it and finally he’d had to admit it because seeing Jude with someone else, someone like Lucas who didn’t value him, hurt too much to not to take the chance. The problem is that once he opened himself up to being emotionally invested in Jude, he couldn’t stop there.

At first it was just Miguel, the little kid who had lost his mom, his story so much like Zero’s own. When Miguel’s dad couldn’t cope with being a parent Jelena had surprisingly stepped up to be his main caregiver with Kyle as a close second. Jelena stumbled along the way, but Zero’s heart had grown a little softer towards her. She really was doing her best and things were better now that she let him and Jude pick up the slack.

Then William and Spencer Reid entered the picture. Whatever Zero expected going in, he never anticipated he would care so much. He had watched his Dad go nearly to pieces worried about his oldest son. Meanwhile, Jude had such a fierce faith in his new friend and Zero tried to believe, but it was hard when he worried about what it would do to Jude if he was wrong.

Zero felt suffocated. No amount of money or power could fix this. It couldn’t save Spencer. It couldn’t turn back time to stop it from happening. It couldn’t ease his father’s pain, prove Jude right, or make Zero care any less. They were all just stuck in that moment with no way out.

The report on the news was like a punch in the gut. Agent Rossi encouraged them to sit tight and stay away from the news, but William turned on the TV as a nervous reflex and there it was. A man who had raped, tortured, and murdered five other people was on the loose in Buffalo, New York. There couldn’t be another serial killer in that same city, could there?

Zero was thrown back into those early days in foster care. The older boy he shared a room with would say things in their pitch-dark room. One night, he got brave enough to touch, threatening that he would hurt him if he told. After that, Zero tried to sneak into his sister’s room to sleep until one of the older girls tattled. Thankfully the boy was sent to another home not long after, but the memory was enough to make his blood run cold and his imagination kick into overdrive.

Then the phone rang. Rossi called to say Spencer was OK, but it would be hours still until they heard from him directly. The strain was different, but no less intense.

None of them had the wherewithal to cook so they had started muttering about ordering something in when the phone rang again. Jude seemed the one in charge of all communication, so he grabbed William’s phone. The caller ID said it was David Rossi so he turned it on speaker.

“Agent Rossi, is everything OK?” Jude said in greeting.

Instead a hoarse voice replied, “It’s me. I lost my phone.”

“Spencer!” William cried out. “Where are you? Are you OK?”

“I’m going to be fine,” Spencer reassured, but it sounded like it was painful for him to speak. “I hurt my shoulder and have a mild concussion so they’re keeping me overnight for observation, but we’ll be flying back to D.C. tomorrow as soon as I’m discharged.”

“They talked about it on the news about what he…we were so worried,” William struggled with his words, but now that he had confirmation Spencer was OK he was working himself back up regarding the FBI.

Spencer’s reply was measured, “I’m sorry that you all had to worry about me. I promise I’m OK.”

Zero heard himself speaking, “But they got him, right? He’s going away for what he did to you and those other people?”

There were a couple beats of silence, “That won’t be necessary."

 _“Spencer saved himself,”_ David Rossi had said, and suddenly Zero saw his brother as more than the skinny genius in ties and cardigans from the photographs. He had a million questions, but didn’t know how to ask.

Instead of that statement making William pause as Zero did, it added fuel to his fire. “Spencer, you can’t keep doing this job. It’s going to get you killed!”

Spencer, sounding oddly calm, replied, “My best friend and the mother of my godsons gets to go home to her family. If my doing this job, if my going through…if that was the price to keep JJ safe and to keep someone else from being hurt, then I would do it again. As long as they will have me I will do this job and I don’t want to argue about it.”

Even with the strain in his voice, Spencer’s tone brooked no argument. Zero thought maybe he was finally seeing what Jude did when it came to his older brother. At the same time, he knew Spencer couldn’t be telling them everything. How could anyone spend the better part of a day with a serial killer and seemingly walk away like it was no big deal?

No one spoke for a minute, then Spencer added, “If you think it’s too dangerous to have me in your lives then we don’t have to do this.”

“No!” Zero said. "Something told him that _this_ , the potential rejection, would be the hit that could take Spencer down. “No, when you’re able we still want to see you.”

Jude’s shoulder brushed his own and they shared a look before his partner nodded in agreement. William stayed silent, but he looked almost as gutted as when they got the news about Spencer’s abduction. Zero didn’t know what to do, but he knew his father was thinking about what was, in his mind, the inevitable next time and how much it would hurt. He could understand that.

“If you’re sure,” Spencer said. “I’m still scheduled to start teaching on Monday, but I’ll have to fly right to Los Angeles. I need a couple of days at home and with my shoulder I shouldn’t be driving so…”

“Stay with us,” Jude jumped in. “Zero and I can help you get where you need to go and the house is more comfortable than a hotel. There’s plenty of space so if you can make it before the weekend William could join us for a couple days.”

Spencer hesitated briefly, but Zero could tell his was swayed by Jude’s tone which hovered on the edge of begging. Despite his conviction that he wouldn’t give up on Spencer, Zero could see the worry he had been carrying. When it was finally resolved that they would head back to L.A. and Spencer would join them on Friday, they finally hung up. William seemed withdrawn, but insisted he was fine and after a quiet dinner Zero and Jude went back to their hotel.

Zero headed for the shower. The stress-sweat had gone right through his t-shirt and he was sure he smelled ripe. As he washed he thought about Spencer. He knew just enough about what his brother had gone through for his imagination to run wild. That flash of memory from when he was a kid kept racing through his mind. He hadn’t thought of that in years. He’d run so fast and so far from so many things, yet here they were.

Zero scrubbed himself harshly and got out of the shower. He had left the door of the bathroom open to let the steam escape so he could hear Jude on the phone. It sounded like he was talking to Lionel.

“I know, I know,” Jude said. “We’re coming back day after tomorrow. I’ll tell him before then.” Jude listened to whoever was on the other end of the phone and then a moment later they hung up. 

“You’ll tell who what?” Zero asked as he came out of the bathroom. He let the towel drop from around his waist to pull on some underwear and athletic pants. He could tell Jude was nervous because he didn’t look.

“I was going to tell you,” Jude started as Zero continued to dress. “Jelena and Lionel decided to make a trade in the off season. I tried to talk them out of it.”

“Who is it?”

“They’re signing Christian Giordano,” Jude replied.

Zero froze with his shirt in his hand, “Giordano? When the hell is this happening?”

Jude looked away, “Lionel wants to do the signing and press conference this weekend. That’s why she called, to make sure we would be back.”

Zero fumbled into his shirt, “They’re signing him this weekend and you’re just telling me now?” He was raising his voice, but he couldn’t help himself.

Jude reached out to him, but Zero stepped away and the offered hand was withdrawn. “When was I supposed to tell you? You’ve been so tense with getting to know your Dad, finally meeting Spencer, and then what happened today…”

“So you decided I couldn’t handle it?” Zero challenged.

“No, there was just never a good time,” Jude reasoned, but Zero was done.

“Out of all the people in my life that I have to play games with, you’re supposed to be the one who doesn’t lie to me or keep secrets,” Zero said. It was a low blow and he knew it, but it felt so good to be angry. Zero embraced the relief of it for a moment before he realized he needed to leave before he said or did something he would regret.

“Gideon!” Jude called after him as he grabbed his wallet and headed for the door, but he didn’t look back.

Jude called his phone a dozen times as Zero walked the strip, but he didn’t come back to the room until it was late and he was near exhaustion. When he did return he found Jude pacing the room. He said nothing in the face of his partner’s obvious hurt and disappointment and Jude finally turned and went in to shower. Zero collapsed in bed and thankfully passed out, never feeling the weight of Jude getting in beside him.  

The next day, William watched them with concern as they avoided talking directly to each other while making plans to fly home. When that was done, Jude begged off to go back to the hotel to do some work, but Zero stayed.

“Did you two have a fight?” William asked, but Zero shut it down.

“It’s a work thing.”

When they finally got home, Zero felt so bottled up he thought he would explode. While Jude got William settled into one of their guestrooms, the one that covered the footprint of his old room in that resurfaced memory, he put on shorts and running shoes. He and Jude had taken to running together in their new neighborhood when there was time, but he didn’t invite him to come along.

Zero started on their usual route, but kept going when he reached the spot where he and Jude normally turned back. His sweat soaked shirt started to chafe his nipples so he stripped it off and threw it in a garbage can along the way. His mind cleared the more he ran and the feeling of wanting to crawl out of his own skin receded.

He could draw the line between his fucked up childhood and how it shaped his life, from resisting a relationship with Jude to refusing certain things in bed. By not dealing with it all for so long, he was unprepared to face it now. Yet he had a brother who had gone through the unimaginable. Could he really walk out of that still whole? If not, how could Zero do anything about it when he couldn’t even deal with his own childhood bullshit?

A car honked and Zero looked around and realized he had no idea where he was, but Jude was pulling up next to him in his black convertible. He looked pissed.

“Get in!” Jude commanded as he reached across to open the passenger-side door from the inside.

Zero was suddenly aware of the weakness in his legs from running for so long. He got in the car and even as he registered his sweaty skin on the leather, Jude was tossing him a towel and a sports drink. He wiped at the sweat, only then realizing how burnt he was from the summer sun. And dehydrated. He chugged the drink, but knew he was still going to be feeling it later.

“You were gone for hours,” Jude accused as he pulled a U-turn to head for home.

Zero really had run for several miles and he had to wonder how long Jude had been out looking for him. Despite the dehydration headache setting in, he was clearheaded enough now to start feeling guilty, but the other man stayed silent the rest of the way home.

Back at the house, William met them in the living room with concern, but Jude silenced him with a look as he herded Zero into their bedroom. Jude’s take-charge persona was usually a huge turn-on, but not when he was so tired and not when he could feel the disappointment coming off of Jude in waves.

Jude left him to start the shower. Zero stripped and left his sweat-drenched clothes draped over the side of the hamper before heading into the bathroom. Jude didn’t look at him as he passed, but a moment later he returned naked to join Zero under the spray.

The water was cooler than normal in deference to Zero’s sunburn. Jude seemed to be cataloging the damage as he examined his face and shoulders before turning him around to see his back, but Zero felt the light press of him leaning his forehead against his shoulder as he wrapped his arms around his chest and pulled him close.

Zero found Jude’s hand on his chest and laced their fingers together. He felt sane for the first time in days. Despite what he had said the other night, there was no one he trusted like Jude. Jude always seemed to be the one pushing himself to accommodate him, to be the rock that he leaned on. What did he get out of the deal?

Jude didn’t make a move to try anything, but Zero could feel his hardening dick brought on by their closeness and slippery skin. He widened his stance and brought his lover’s hand to his mouth to kiss his palm. “Do it,” he said, breaking the silence between them.

“What?” Jude asked, but Zero felt him stiffen as he caught on, and not in a good way. There was hurt in his voice when he said, “You’d rather give up your ass than talk to me?”

Zero realized his mistake as Jude released him and fled the shower. His partner had been the inexperienced one in terms of sex when they first started, but he was leagues ahead of Zero when it came to their relationship. He didn’t know how to tell the other man what was going through his head or that he was the only one he would trust to cross that line. He could see that Jude was right though. When they took that step, it couldn’t be like this.

By the time Zero got out of the shower, Jude had left to go into the office. William didn’t say anything, but he helped him put some aloe on his back and brought him water and ibuprofen. They spent the rest of the day together on the couch until Jude came home with pizza. That night it felt like a giant chasm opened between them and Zero knew it was his fault, but not how to fix it.

Zero stole a glance at Jude’s profile. He had that furrow in his brow again that showed he was particularly wound up. It made his boyish features look too serious and he wished he could ease it away.

“There he is,” William said and straightened. Zero followed his line of sight to see two figures walking toward them. One was an older man with salt and pepper hair and a short, well-trimmed beard. The younger man beside him was taller, his hair short in the back, but longer and a little wavy on top. He wore a button-up shirt, black slacks, a pair of chucks, and a sling supporting his left arm and shoulder. Spencer.

As the pair made their way through the crowded space, Zero watched Spencer take stock. One by one he appeared to quickly catalog each of them until he came to Zero. When their eyes locked, Spencer gave him a nod.

“Hi Dad,” Spencer said when he finally reached them. William obviously wanted to hug his son, but seemed afraid so Spencer did it for him. “I’m fine. Just watch the shoulder.”

When Spencer offered his hand to Jude, his partner instead drew the other man into a gentle hug. When it was Zero’s turn, it felt surprisingly right to do the same. Spencer felt slender, but solid in his arms and the strength in the arm that squeezed him back told him there was real meaning behind the embrace for both of them.

“Agent Rossi,” William greeted when they broke apart. “Thank you. It was very kind of you to come all this way with Spencer.”

Rossi accepted the handshake. “It was no trouble. My daughter and her family live in San Francisco. It’s a nice excuse to go for a visit,” he replied even as his gaze swung over to Zero and Jude. “Getting a chance to meet Spencer’s brother is an added bonus. You must be Gideon?”

Zero shook hands with Agent Rossi and glanced at Jude, “This is my fiancée, Jude Kinkaid,” He said, feeling awkward with the introduction given the current state of their relationship.

“It’s good to know that Reid will have someone to keep him out of trouble” Rossi said with a smile. He pushed a rolling suitcase over toward Zero. “Don’t let him carry that.”

Zero pulled the surprisingly heavy piece of luggage closer. “Books,” Spencer said, sheepishly. “I need them for my classes.”

Rossi checked his watch. “I need to make my connecting flight. You stay out of trouble,” he said as he embraced Spencer. “ _In bocca al lupo!”_

Zero watched curiously as Spencer replied with a satisfied grin, “ _Crepi il lupo_.”*

That surprised a laugh out of the older FBI Agent, “You’ve been practicing!”

“I can’t let you and Emily have all the fun,” Spencer said. “Say hello to Joy for me.”

David Rossi left them to catch his flight to San Francisco and the four of them turned to head to short-term parking, Zero rolling Spencer’s book-filled luggage behind him. Had he brought his own library?

William seemed unable to take his eyes off his oldest son, “Was that Italian? I didn’t know you spoke Italian.”

“I just started. Since Rossi and our Unit Chief, Emily Prentiss, both speak the language, I thought it would be fun,” Spencer replied offhand.

Zero loaded the suitcase into the back of the SUV while Jude helped Spencer into the backseat. William sat in the back with his oldest son leaving Zero and Jude in the front. William asked Spencer non-work related questions as they drove, but Jude was oddly quiet. Zero stole glances at him as he negotiated his way through traffic.

When they reached the house, Zero could see Spencer was reaching the end of his energy. He was pale and though he looked on appreciatively during the brief tour, his eyes didn’t have the same focus he had noted at the airport.

“Why don’t you rest for a while before dinner,” Jude suggested. “It’s a long flight from D.C.”

Spencer accepted gratefully and Zero led him to his room, bringing the suitcase with them. He laid the luggage flat across a sturdy chair so Spencer could unpack easily when he got to it. “The bathroom is right next door. There are some towels on the dresser and more in the cupboard,” Zero said, but stopped talking when he saw the way Spencer was looking at him. “What?”

“I can leave,” Spencer offered.

“What?” Zero asked again.

“At first I thought maybe you were upset like Dad about the FBI, but then I realized you and Jude are fighting. If it has something to do with me, I can leave,” Spencer explained.

Zero was taken aback, “How could you possibly know we’re fighting?”

Spencer raised an eyebrow at him, “This is the first time I’ve observed you together, but happy couples tend to stand angled slightly toward each other. At the airport you both angled away. Then in the car Jude avoided looking at you, but you kept stealing glances at him. This would suggest that you feel regret for the argument, but he’s still mad.”

Zero sat down hard on the bed and looked at him, “You’ve been here for an hour and you figured that out?”

Spencer sat down beside him, “I’m a profiler.”

“It’s not you.”

Spencer raised an eyebrow.

“OK, not directly you,” Zero admitted. “I’m not good at relationships. I avoided them until Jude. I’m not used to caring so much and then we got the call from Agent Rossi…”

“I’m sorry,” Spencer said, and Zero could see he was sincere.

“It’s not your fault. I just didn’t know how to deal with it. Jude tells me not to keep things bottled up, but that’s exactly what I did. I took it out on him. I hurt him,” Zero explained.

Spencer chuckled, “I wonder if that defense mechanism is in our DNA.”

“What?”

“My friend Derek Morgan told me once that I put up walls. I know what it’s like to want to keep people out. I work with other profilers, so the thought that everyone is watching me and analyzing me…Its bad enough that all the way home my team tiptoed around, treating me like a victim. Other than Rossi, I haven’t even told them I have a brother,” Spencer replied sheepishly.

But Zero understood. If this didn’t work out it would hurt more to have to explain it when he got back. Only, as he was learning, there was a different kind of pain to keeping everything to yourself.

“I remembered something from when I was a kid,” Zero blurted and Spencer gave him a questioning look. “This was the house I lived in with my foster parents. I bought it for Jude and I to fix up and it looks completely different now. When we heard on the news what that man did to people, I remembered I used to share a room with this older boy. He would talk about doing things and then one night…”

Zero felt Spencer touch his shoulder and he leaned into his brother. After a moment he said, “The boy only touched me the one time. He went to another foster home not long after and I never told anyone. I didn’t even really remember until I thought about what you must be going through.”

“You haven’t told Jude?” Spencer asked.

Zero just shook his head. It was surprisingly easy to tell this to Spencer as they rested against each other.

Spencer took a breath, “If it helps, Michael Edward Franklin didn’t rape me. He tried. The things he did..., but I’m so tired of being treated with kid gloves or seeing the look on everyone’s faces as they wonder. I don’t want that here so I need you to know.”

They sat like that for a few minutes until Spencer rubbed at his neck and shoulder. Zero realized he was keeping him up. “Hot pack or ice pack?” he offered.

“An ice pack would be good,” Spencer said.

Zero left the room and almost ran right into William. “How is he?” he asked.

“He’s just tired and his shoulder is sore. I’m going to grab him a cold compress.” William seemed satisfied, but still restless. “I really do think he’s going to be OK.”

In the kitchen, he grabbed one of his gel packs from the freezer and headed back to Spencer’s room. He thought about how Spencer had said he didn’t want to be tiptoed around, so he only gave a brief knock before opening the door. He froze when he saw Spencer standing there, the sling off and his shirt unbuttoned. He held his left arm awkwardly as he fumbled with a bandage low on the left side of his abdomen with his right hand. Another white square adorned his chest over his heart.

Spencer looked startled and Zero had just enough presence of mind to shut the door before he spoke, “What the hell!?”

“I may have understated my injuries,” Spencer admitted.

Zero stepped closer and could see abrasions down the other man’s side that looked like road rash and near his neck… ”Are you wearing makeup?”

“JJ and Penelope helped me cover up the worst of the bruises so I wouldn’t look like I was dressed for Halloween. Dad was upset enough without my telling you all about every scratch. I’m really OK,” Spencer insisted, but he looked exhausted as he sat on the bed and rubbed his shoulder.

After the conversation they just had, Zero was so mad he would have given Spencer a good shake if he wasn’t already hurt. If this was even a fraction of how Jude felt after yesterday, he had a new appreciation for what he had put him through.

He took a breath to calm himself, “What do you need?”

Spencer looked relieved and indicated the bandage he had been fumbling with, “It’s in an awkward spot so the dressing doesn’t like to stay and it’s hard to do one handed.”

Zero could see what he was getting at. The waistband of his pants rubbed at the lower end of the bandage so it was no longer in place. “Let me wash my hands,” he said.

When he came back, he saw that Spencer had prepped a new bandage and was deftly removing the old one. “You aren’t squeamish are you?” he asked.

He nodded no, but reconsidered when he saw the long cut that curved from an inch from his navel to the top of his hip. A row of neat sutures held the wound together. “What happened?” he asked to distract himself as he reached for the fresh bandage.

“Franklin had a knife and I managed to throw him off, but I was still in handcuffs so…” Spencer trailed off, but pushed his sleeves up to show Zero the healing wounds on his wrists.

“And that one?” Zero asked, pointed to the other bandage.

Spencer met his eye, “It’s a burn. He did it before he left me alone that night.”

“And the makeup?”

“Bruises. He tried to strangle me when he came back the next morning,” Spencer answered simply.

Zero broke eye contact and finished securing the new dressing. “I don’t know how you survived all that.”

“Neither do I,” Spencer admitted and Zero could see he was dead serious.

Zero swallowed, but was saved from replying by a knock at the door.

“Spencer? Is Gideon in there?” came Jude’s voice.

Spencer nodded toward the door so he went and opened it. Jude gave him a startled look, but let Zero guide him into the room so he could shut the door. He froze completely when he got a look at Spencer.

“Spencer might need a little more help than he let on,” Zero said when Jude looked back at him.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” Spencer said. “I didn’t want to worry Dad.”

“William wouldn’t react well,” Jude agreed as he got his bearings.

Zero cleaned up the medical supplies as Jude and Spencer talked, going over some of the same things Zero had learned.

“My friends worry, but it’s hard for me to tell them,” Spencer was saying.

Jude huffed, “It must run in the family.”

Zero looked back at them and for the first time since yesterday Jude met his gaze.

“Could you guys go and make up already? I feel like a kid whose parents are fighting,” Spencer broke in. It was enough to startle a laugh out of them. Zero was relieved to see the serious look ease from Jude’s face.

“I love you,” Zero said when Jude got up to join him.

Jude shook his head and pushed him out of the room, “You too, stupid.”

Spencer’s voice was muffled by the closing door, “Really?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is an Italian idiom for good luck, similar to "break a leg", but with a traditional reply.
> 
> Actual translation:  
> In bocca al lupo! - In the wolf’s mouth  
> Crepi il lupo! - May the wolf kick the bucket


	11. Jude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Life can only be understood backwards; but it must be lived forwards.”   
> ― Søren Kierkegaard

“Will you be OK by yourself for a few?” Jude asked William as he and Gideon passed through the family room.

Gideon’s Dad gave them a bemused look, “Of course. How about I get started on dinner?”

“You don’t have to do that,” Gideon protested.

“Let me take care of my boys,” William replied and he seemed to usher them along toward their room.

William’s accepting attitude still took Jude by surprise. For a guy who had only met his youngest son as an adult and had no real obligation to develop a relationship with him, he seemed pretty happy to accept Gideon’s relationship with another man. Oscar Kinkade never managed that and he had known of Jude since he was born.

For William, maybe having a fresh start was easier. It was clear his relationship with Spencer wasn’t as relaxed. They staggered through their conversations, avoiding the hot-button issues between them in a bizarre dance. On top of their history, William now seemed allergic to Spencer’s job and Spencer was ready to downplay his injuries to all three of them to avoid creating waves.

How exactly did Spencer think he could hide all that from them? When he had walked into the guestroom to see Gideon, his jaw tense in irritation, he had wondered if they were about to have it out right there. Then he had caught sight of Spencer, his torso patched with bandages and his side one raw abrasion. As their guest glossed over what he went through, Jude saw his own feelings mirrored in Gideon’s expressions as he would flush and go pale, alternating between frustration and worry. It wasn’t their place to tell William the truth, but when it came out Jude wasn’t looking forward to seeing the older man’s reaction.

Jude also wasn’t looking forward to this conversation with Gideon. He was so tired of the tension between them and despite his partner’s words a moment ago there was no guarantee this would go well. Not with what Jude had to tell him.

When Jude stormed out of the shower the day before, he had dressed, run a hand through his wet hair, and muttered something about work to William on his way out the door. He drove straight to his office at the Arena. Where else did he have to go at 1 pm on a Thursday?

Once he was alone in his spotlessly organized office he calmed down enough to see how ridiculous he must look. He was on vacation, but had just charged into his own office in jeans and a white V-neck t-shirt he was pretty sure belonged to Gideon, hopped up on a cocktail of emotions. Disappointment. Hurt. Frustration. Thankfully, his secretary Vanessa was away at lunch. Maybe he could leave before anyone knew he’d been there?

Yeah, he had completely lost his mind.

Even if he left right now, where would he go? Back to the house? No. He couldn’t even put it all into words just yet. It was better to cool off, do a little work, and maybe by some miracle his thoughts would align themselves before he went home.

There was actually an incredible amount of work to be done. The Players Association had submitted their audit report at the end of June and had 90 days to give notice to up to ten teams of their choosing that they wished to audit. It wasn’t a stretch to assume the L.A. Devils would be on that list given their tumultuous year.

Thankfully, when Jude came on as EVP he had made a point of keeping the books in good order, but he wasn’t willing to risk even a question of impropriety. That meant hounding everyone for inventories, expense reports, and any other paper trail to prove that their operation was above board and completely transparent. Given that Oscar had relied on creative accounting and the ‘good ol' boy network’ to deal with such tiresome expectations, Jude and their new accountant were creating fresh standards for the team and getting everyone on the same page was exhausting.

The accountant had left a list of documents they still needed. They were literally down to two. Head Coach Pete had placed an equipment order late in the season and they were just waiting for him to turn in the original order and the packing slips. Thinking of how great it would be to finally wrap this up, Jude headed toward Pete Davenport’s office.

Jude knocked on the open door as he peaked in and was startled to see Sloan Hayes and her daughter, Ahsha Roman, _née_ Hayes. It wasn’t really a surprise to see Sloan. While she had raised their daughter alone, the past couple of years she and Pete seemed to have finally come together. The real surprise was Ahsha who had married former Devil’s star player Derek Roman before they left for Miami: Derek to play for their team and Ahsha to lead their dancers. Even if they were in town for a visit it was hard to believe she would show up here, especially given what Jude knew of her relationship with Jelena.

“Sorry, I was looking for Pete,” Jude said as he came up short.

At first Sloan looked surprised, but then her expression turned more disapproving, the way it always did in his presence. Back when he was still Oscar’s puppet he discovered Sloan and Raquel were working together to take Oscar down. Jude told them to back off, threatening to reveal Raquel’s undocumented status. That would have torn her away from her son Miguel, the same little boy that was now very much a part of his and Gideon’s lives. Life doesn’t give you do-overs, but if he could take it back…

Sloan forced a smile, “Pete had to go check on something. He said you were in Las Vegas?”

Jude looked at them both. Something didn’t feel right. “Change of plans. Are you having a nice visit?” he asked Ahsha.

Surprisingly, she gave him a blinding smile. “We came to share some news,” she replied, her hand going to her belly where there was just a hint of a curve.

“Congratulations!” He said, and meant it. Things were tense between him and Derek when they last saw each other, but at one time they had been friends. “I bet Derek is over the moon.”

“He’s going to be a great father,” Ahsha replied, but Sloan was still silent.

 Jude forced a smile, “Anyway, I just came in to finish up a couple of things. I’ll catch up with Pete later. Take care.”

As he walked away he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was amiss. If Ahsha was visiting, where were Derek and Pete? Why did Sloan care that he was supposed to be in Vegas?

He bypassed his office and kept going until he reached Jelena’s. He could hear the voices from the open door as he approached.

“…team is a mess. Things got tense here, but we still always managed to play the game,” Derek Roman was saying as Jude stepped into the room.

“Jude,” Jelena said as she spotted him from her chair behind Oscar’s old desk. It was still strange to see her there instead of his father. He should be pissed at her given what he walked into, but she seemed almost relieved to see him.

In the two chairs across from her sat Derek Roman and Terrence Wall. Near the window stood Pete and next to him…Lucas? Jude felt exposed standing at their attention without his usual power suit.

“I thought you were in Vegas?” Pete said, startled.

“That’s what I keep hearing,” he replied. “Jelena, do you have a minute?” 

“Of course. If you’ll excuse me,” Jelena said with a forced smile as she rounded the desk. To most people she would appear calm and collected, but Jude knew her well enough by now to see she was rattled.

“What the hell is going on?” He asked as soon as his office door was shut behind them. “What are Terrance and Derek doing here with Lucas?”

Jelena began to pace, “Terrance called and asked to meet. He said he wanted to clear the air. He's taken a position in L.A. as a sportscaster.”

Jude nodded, “Yeah, I heard about the complications from his injury. He seems to be taking the forced retirement pretty well.”

“Too well. He’s been talking to his connections in the League and he knows we’re still on shaky ground. We received the audit notice yesterday and he already knew about it,” Jelena explained.

“We knew this was coming. We’re ready for the audit,” Jude reassured.

“That’s not all,” Jelena stopped him. “He knows Oscar has been sneaking around, looking for a way to regain majority ownership. My financial backer for the team is already nervous and we’re on thin ice from the board. Terrance knows we’re in trouble and he’s using it for leverage.”

“He wants you to bring Derek back to the team, doesn’t he? Why does Derek even want to come back? He practically begged you to let him go to Miami,” Jude was starting to share her panic.

Jelena huffed a laugh, “Believe it or not, Miami is an even bigger shit show than we are. Derek isn’t happy on the team and now that Ahsha is expecting she wants to be closer to mommy.”

Jude studied her, “You’re really considering it? You’re already bringing Christian Giordano onto the team when he clocked Zero on the court. I thought we were good, Jelena.”

She stopped pacing a looked at him. “We don’t have any good choices here, Jude. You, Zero, and I are in a better place than we were, but you have to admit this wasn’t Zero’s best season.”

“What are you talking about? He got us to the playoffs without Derek or Terrance!”

“He played well. He’s even a good Captain, but Pete is worried. Zero’s focus hasn’t been on the game,” Jelena said and Jude could see she was worried too.

Gideon hadn’t wanted to tell many people about finding his father and brother. There were too many opportunities for it to leak to the media and there was enough to handle without that circus. He told Jude he should disclose it if it became a concern for the team, but Jude had never felt right about sharing the news.

Jude sank down into one of the chairs, “It’s been a rough few months. Zero found his biological father and his brother.”

Jelena’s expression flashed surprise before hardening. “He didn’t think I needed to know?”

“This is on me,” Jude interjected before she could get going. “He told me I could tell you, but I didn’t. It didn’t feel right and I thought we were OK.”

“What else?” Jelena asked, watching him closely. “Why are you here? Trouble in paradise?”

Jude shrugged. “We’ve been getting to know his dad, but his brother was supposed to fly in this week. It’s a long story, but he was injured. We didn’t know if he was going to be OK for a few hours and Zero just bottled it up. Today when we flew home I thought he was finally going to talk about it, but he…” Jude trailed off, not knowing how to finish without crossing a line.

Jelena sighed, “Jude, Zero isn’t the first guy to use sex to change the subject. At least now I know why Lionel wanted to push back the press conference.”

“Yeah. Telling him about Giordano didn’t help. I don’t know how I’m going to tell him about Derek,” Jude shook his head.

“This is business, Jude. There are choices I have to make, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t things we can do. You haven’t seen Giordano’s final contact. He has certain restrictions I think you and Zero will appreciate. If we have to take Derek back we can make it clear he needs to stay in his lane too,” Jelena said after a moment.

“Restrictions?” Jude asked.

“I’ll give you a copy of the contract to look over,” Jelena replied, but didn’t meet his eye.

Maybe things really had changed more than he realized. “I don’t know what to say.”

She sighed, “Don’t make a thing about it. Just go back in there with me to put them on notice. Regardless of our current standing, Derek wants something from us so he will have to negotiate to get it.”

“You want me there?”

“They obviously didn't want you there, so it will put them on the defense. Besides, did you see Lucas’s face when you came in? I can’t say I blame him. It looks like Zero has been rubbing off on you in more ways than one,” Jelena said indicating his shirt and the stubble on his jaw.

Jude winced and Jelena’s eyes narrowed. “No. You and Lucas?”

“It was just once. Zero and I had broken up at the time,” Jude explained, getting up to follow her back to her office.

Jelena shook her head, “One day I’ll have to get the full story. Let’s get this over with so you can go kiss and make up. If you two can’t make it there’s no hope for the rest of us.”

Something in her face made Jude stop her at the door. “Jelena. Terrance coming back… you still have feelings for him?”

She looked vulnerable for a moment, but shook it off. “It doesn’t matter how I feel if we can’t be what each other needs. This has to be business.”

Jude followed her as she walked out the door without further comment. It was obvious when they reentered her office that an intense discussion had been taking place.

“Sorry for the wait gentleman. We’re signing a new player to the team on Monday and Jude was kind enough to help me with some details even though he has been busy planning his engagement party,” Jelena said as she rounded her desk. “Our Devils family is looking forward to celebrating with Zero and Jude.”

Jude hid his wince at his engagement being brought up this way, but he knew what Jelena was doing. If there had been any doubt before, she was making her alliances clear. It may have been smarter to leave them guessing, so in some ways this was also for his benefit.

Jude scanned the room as she spoke, taking the temperature of the occupants. Pete had the decency to look a little guilty, Derek and Terrance were pissed but covering it well, and Lucas did seem to be giving him the once over. Not for the first time Jude wondered what he had been thinking when he had been so eager to date him.

“Jelena, we were hoping to keep this an informal discussion,” Terrance spoke, clearly unhappy with the situation.

Rather than reply herself, Jelena looked to Jude. “Since Derek, his agent, and our Head Coach are in the room, I believe we have moved beyond an informal conversation,” he said.  “It’s clear you are looking to negotiate an offer to return to the Devils. Given how eager you were to leave, I’m not sure why we would.”

“Derek Roman has proven himself as a star player, both with the Devils and during his time in Miami. Other teams would be happy to offer him a generous contract,” Lucas replied.

“Derek’s last contract was more than generous, but that wasn’t enough to guarantee his loyalty,” Jelena interjected. “In order to give Derek another opportunity on my team I need to know he can fit into our current strategy and that his former teammates will welcome him back.”

“Wait, isn’t there a conflict of interest here?” Pete spoke, glancing at Jude.

“We're not negotiating Zero's contract right now. Besides, you’re our Coach and he's your son-in-law. We need a fair check against any accusations of nepotism in this negotiation,” Jude countered.

Derek finally spoke, “So what does this mean? You shuffle me to the bench to put me in my place? The team gets to vote on whether I come back?”

“Hmm, I haven’t decided,” Jelena said with a smile. “In any case, I need to finalize details for Monday’s press conference and I need to get Miguel to his swim lesson this afternoon so I’m afraid that is all the time I have. You know your way out.”

Jude noticed that she hardly glanced at Terrance, though he tried to catch her eye as he and the others stood to leave. All in all, it went better than he might have expected.

“What’s next?” Jude asked when they had cleared the room.

Jelena opened her drawer and pulled out a file. “We wait and see how serious Derek is about wanting back on the team. In the meantime you need to tell Zero and get his head back in the game,” she said handing him the file. Giordano’s contract.

They shared a look and Jude knew this negotiation and how much faith he and Gideon showed in Jelena would make or break their partnership. He nodded before heading back to his own office. His final surprise of the day was finding it already occupied.

“Derek. This really isn’t appropriate,” Jude greeted.

“We were friends once, Jude,” Derek replied, putting up a hand to halt his argument. “There’s no reason we can’t be again.”

Derek had been as close to a friend as Jude had known before things started with Gideon, if you counted buying coke for your client a sign of friendship. “If we were really friends you wouldn’t be here. You would understand the position I’m in being the EVP and in a relationship with the Captain of the team and keep your distance. This is complicated enough.”  

Derek dropped his gaze and shook his head, “You’re really marrying him? I still wondered if it was all just a publicity stunt he talked you into.”

“It was never a stunt and if anyone was talked into it, it was Zero,” Jude replied.

Derek didn’t say anything for a moment so Jude was left to think back over that day on the court when Gideon kissed him so unexpectedly in front of all those people. He couldn’t have known for sure that Jude would take him back, but he had done it anyway and to hell with the consequences. Jude slapped the file against his desk and huffed a laugh before moving to pack up his briefcase.

“What?” Derek asked, looking startled.

“Nothing,” Jude said as he shouldered the bag. “Just realized it’s time to head home.”

Derek looked at him like he’d lost it, but allowed himself to be ushered out the door. He turned to head back to Pete’s office, but Jude stopped him.

“Hey Derek? If we are friends, congratulations,” he said.

The other man nodded and actually smiled. “Thanks. You too, man.”

Despite that moment of clarity in his office, Jude still had no idea what to say when he got home. He was still so torn over what had happened in the shower.  When he got home Gideon was in no shape to have a conversation as he nursed his headache and sunburn. The next day it was too easy to keep procrastinating as they all ran around preparing for Spencer’s arrival. When Spencer was delivered safely to the guestroom to rest, there were finally no excuses left.

Jude watched Gideon shut the door to the bedroom and when he turned around he could read the apprehension on his face. He swallowed and seemed to struggle for words.

“I’m sorry, Jude. This isn’t easy for me,” He said, waving his hand between them to indicate their conversation. “I never should have put you on the spot yesterday.”

“Why? Was it to avoid talking to me? Did you think that was something I needed from you?”

The muscle in Gideon’s jaw twitched, his face showing such pain it reminded Jude of the day he talked him into taking his pent-up emotions out on the house with a sledgehammer. He continued to struggle as he crossed to sit at the foot of the bed.

“I don’t know,” he finally said. “Maybe I thought it was something I needed to do. I’m so tired of realizing my past is still interfering in my life.”

Jude sat down next to him. “What does this have to do with you past?”

Gideon looked down at his clasped hands, “Remember that news story? I don’t know why but it made me remember something from when I was a kid. This older boy would talk about things he wanted to do to me. Then one night he did more than talk.”

Jude felt his heart skip a beat as he processed what Gideon was saying. “You’re saying…We live in the same house!” Jude finally got out as the realization hit.

“Hey it’s fine!” Gideon said, touching his arm.

“How can you say that?” Jude replied, understanding now the anger, the tension, and the need for the physical release of that run the day before. He tentatively reached for Gideon and held on tightly when the other man moved to return the embrace.

“This isn’t the same house. I mean it is, but it’s our home now,” Gideon said, his mouth close to Jude’s ear. “The worst part about remembering wasn’t what actually happened. It was realizing how much it has controlled my life, even when I didn’t remember. I don’t want that ghost between us.”

Jude pulled back and held Gideon’s face between his hands. “It’s not. Whatever we decide to do, as long as we talk to each other, it’s just you and me,” he said before leaning in to kiss the other man. The soft press of lips felt like a balm against the wounds of the past days. Gideon held him firmly in turn, letting it linger.

“Just ‘you and me’ has gotten crowded in recent days,” Gideon said when they finally separated, indicating what lay outside their closed door. “No way Dad doesn’t realize something is wrong.”

Jude geared up for the next hurtle. “William and Spencer aren’t the only people we have to worry about right now. When I went to the arena yesterday, I found Pete in Jelena’s office with Terrance and Derek. Lucas was there too.”

“Lucas?” Gideon scowled. He always got that look when Lucas showed his face at the arena. To think Jude had once described him as ‘not the possessive type’.

“He’s still Derek’s agent. I guess Miami isn’t that great and Ahsha is expecting so they want to come home to L.A.” Jude summarized. He watched Gideon for his reaction, but surprisingly he seemed calm.

“Does Jelena want him back on the team?” he asked.

“She doesn’t think we have much of a choice. Terrance is throwing his weight around with the League to keep tabs on our situation. I think that pisses her off more than anything. She went out of her way to make it clear there would be a cost to letting him come back and that she allegiance was with us.”

Gideon smiled, “Oh, how the tables have turned. That could cost her.”

“You don’t seem upset.”

“Derek never messed with the game. If Giordano tries something on the court he won’t get away with it. Besides, having Derek Roman back in our lives and on the team isn’t the worst that could happen,” Gideon replied as he looked toward their bedroom door. They were silent a moment as they both thought of Spencer in their spare room.

“I think I’m more worried about having Terrance back in town,” Jude broke the silence. “Jelena’s still hung up on him, but she doesn’t think they can work it out.”

Gideon huffed a laugh, “I remember that feeling.”

“So do I,” Jude replied.

“I missed you,” Gideon said and Jude wasn’t sure if he was talking about their breakup all those months ago or the distance between them the past few days. Maybe both.

“I missed you too,” he said. Then Gideon’s mouth was on his in a kiss that skipped past the tenderness of the last one to head right for rough desire. It had been too long.

In the haze of their hunger, they somehow managed to get each other’s clothes off and strip the comforter off the bed before Gideon followed him down onto the cool sheets.

Jude gasped at the feel of the other man on him chest to chest, thighs splayed to cradle his hips. Gideon didn’t settle there for long though. He worked his mouth down Jude’s chest, making him bit his lip to stifle a moan when he took his dick into his mouth. They weren’t known for being quiet, but a part of Jude was already forgetting why that should matter as Gideon hollowed his cheeks and ran a slick finger over his opening. Jude's breathing faltered with the penetration.

Gideon pulled off him to meet his eye, “Yeah?”

Jude nodded and grabbed his shoulder to pull him back up the bed. “Yeah.”

Even though they were more practiced at this than in the beginning, it hadn’t lost any of the intensity. That initial stretch of muscle that hovered on the knife’s edge between pain and pleasure, the heat and pressure building up in his belly, and the electricity coursing through his muscles when Gideon found the right angle still threatened to overwhelm him.

Jude tried to muffle the rhythmic gasps from escaping his mouth, but Gideon grabbed his hands and held them against the pillows, instead covering his mouth with his own until they both needed to breath. As the pleasure mounted, Jude clasped at Gideon’s hands, needing to hang on as he tipped over the edge. The other man’s cry echoed his own a moment later.

Their sweat had begun to cool by the time Gideon moved to separate their bodies with a soothing hand on his hip when Jude winced at muscles protesting their abuse. They settled against the pillows together, exchanging little touches. They were more relaxed than they had been in days.

Jude traced Gideon’s profile with his eyes. He was still worried about the other man, about what he had remembered, but he had hope it would be OK. They would be Ok.

“What?” Gideon asked as he caught his eye.

Jude shook his head and smirked. “Just wondering how I’m ever going to face your father again,” he teased.

He dodged the pillow that came his way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay. Real life was less than cooperative in getting this chapter down. 
> 
> Please forgive any errors in my understanding of the Players Association and the audit process.


End file.
